


Raised from Perdition

by HallowedBlock07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (And what I think everyone else wanted too), Alistair is a creep, Apocalypse time babey-, Apocalypseverse Michael is an Angsty Boi (tm), BAMF Claire Novak, BAMF Crowley (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean was figuring out hs sexuality be4 going to Hell, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, First Dates, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon:, I have a whole torture chapter planned for later on, I have dug myself into a plotline and not mindless fluff, I planned all of it out and I'm so ready for the fluff to turn angsty, I'll slowly add more tags and characters as I become sure they'll be in this, I'm Sorry, Implied Suicide Attempt, KFC, M/M, Metatron Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Michael and Adam are like an old married couple but plationic, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Ruby is a bitch, Seven Deadly Sins, Temporary Character Death, There is actual rape in this-, There will be explicit torture, This is what i wanted, We're dredging up Lincoln Nebraska, and Alistair abused this, and I'm hoping I can deliver in some form, character becomes death, i have no clue what i am doing, it has a sweet ending, previous suicidal thoughts, toxic relationships mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 41,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowedBlock07/pseuds/HallowedBlock07
Summary: 'Guys?' Chuck's unsteady voice calls out, fear cracking it into miniscule pieces, falling onto the blood-stained ground.'Guys!?'The impala kicks up a dust cloud as Sam, Dean, and Jack drive away from God; from Destiny; from every single bloody string tying them up like puppets, helpless to the master who forces them to dance with a twist of their capricious, unrelenting hands.They're free, finally! No strings attached, free.However, Cas is still gone, and for Dean, that means he has one more possibly-suicidal quest he needs to finish - Get Cas out of the empty.And, **SPOILER ALERT** He does, as well as several hundred other beings who all know about and want the blood of The Winchesters and co.So, they bunker down and take the punches as they come - Lucifer, Alistair, Raphael, Ruby - with as much grace as a wayward, mismatched family can gather and utilise, but, things wont stay stable for The Winchester for long; they have Traumas they are going to be forced to face, and old acquaintances they may or may not have banged at one point or another.So, do up your seat belts, let the driver (that's me, by the way) pick the music, you all can shut your cake holes, and let's get driving!
Relationships: Balthazar & Uriel, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Hannah (Supernatural), Crowley & Rowena MacLeod, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester / Alistair, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel & Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Michael & Adam Milligan, Ruby/Sam Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 67





	1. What now?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a fic like this, and my first supernatural fic as well so I don't know the characters that well. However, I refused to see what Supernatural became as its end. Wish me luck and I hope you all enjoy!  
> Also, I know that the point of defeating chuck is that drama like what is to come doesn't happen, but it's like THE final season instead. Facing every monster from their past and recovering from their trauma before they go down in history as the best hunters to live.

Gone.

_ The warm wetness of the angel’s blood seeping through his jacket, heating the ice in his stomach as he realizes what's happening, realizes he’s about to lose Cas- _

_ “ _ Dean? Did you hear me?” Sam’s voice is tinged with concern for his distant brother, watching his eyes glaze over as he replays something over and over in his head again and again. Jack had disappeared a day or so ago, and now Sam and Dean were back at the bunker, trying to heal up from what injuries were left from their fight - more like beating - with Chuck.

Dean made a vague noise, thinking it sounded like a yes...if you squinted...with your ears, as he took a deep mouthful of his beer, his spare hand reaching down to the dog laying on his lap. Miracle, the dog he adopted, regardless of who owned him before. It was almost therapeutic to run his hands through the shaggy fur, but it was nice.

“I said, What should we do now? Jack’s gone, everything’s back to normal-”

“Cas…”

He started, trying to figure out how to say it, how to explain to his brother that no, everything was not normal, because Cas should be with them, by their side, laughing at their terrible puns only half understanding them regardless of his knowledge on pop culture.

“I know… You say he’s in the empty? How on earth would we get there without the help of Jack or an Archangel?” He asked, trying to think of something while working with the pieces of the puzzle aloud.

“I don't know…” He sounded lost. Dean was a strong figure in Sam’s life. He always knew what he was doing, or knew how to get to where he wanted to be anyways. But never, not once, did he sound this lost and.. _.heartbroken  _ over something like this. 

“Dean, We’ll find a way to bring him back. After all, family don’t end in blood, as bobby always told us”

~~~~~

It was black. Dark, and though tears still swam in his vision, they didn't affect it at all because what was there to see? Nothing but the rich colour of black everywhere. 

“I told you I’d finally get you, Clarence.” Ringed in his ears, yet no one was around to have said them directly to him. He was al-

Okay, maybe not entirely.

“You  _ Winchester! _ ” Billie roared, her ire clawing its way to the surface, making itself known. So many times had these Winchesters screwed her over, and her confidence in herself let it happen. It was time to knuckle down and make him suffer for every single thing his family had afflicted on her.

She darted forwards, fist flying towards Castiel's face, which he barely had time to dodge before the next attack flew in. He was constantly kept on the defense, and with Billie using her scythe as well, he could feel his luck drain from him every second he fought. 

The exalted feeling he had reached confessing to Dean was now being lost to adrenaline and fear - not that he wasn't running on those before, but now it was all he could feel beyond the soreness of his muscles - and he could feel Billie gaining the upper hand. 

"Give it up, Castiel." she called out, bringing her scythe down and cutting a long gash down his arm, causing the Angel to yelp and jump away, trying to figure out how to get away from this fight he was seconds away from losing . 

He grasped at the wood of the scythe, frantic to wrestle it from Billie to use himself, only to be pushed onto his back, all the air rushing from his lungs as he landed awkwardly. 

Death raised her scythe and brought it down, ready to injure Castiel-

Only to be halted by a golden, spiral blade, held in the hand of a short-

"Gabriel?" 

"You managed to annoy Death herself. I'm impressed" He admitted with a small smirk as he pushed Billie back to give him and Cas some room. Gabriel crouched and raised his blade, ready to take The Reaper on. 

~~~~~

"I'm going to pick up Eileen for our date night. Are you sure you'll be fine?" This was the sixth time Sam had asked in the past half hour, wary of his brother's shift in mood. He had gone from despondent to… Hardened. Like he was about to go into battle. It might have been something he picked up to ease himself during Purgatory, Sam wasn't entirely sure, but he did know that it was only slightly better than before. 

"Yes, I am sure. Go get laid and come back safe." He gave a teasing wink to the giant before retreating back to his room, hearing the definitive echo of Sam's steps and the door shutting. 

Good. He was alone. Well, mostly. 

Dean and Miracle sat down, one at the desk and one on the other's feet, and Dean opened the penultimate book on the pile beside him. An old book of spells they had taken from a Coven a year or two back. He didn't think initially that it would bear anything useful, but he was wrong. 

**_Noan teloc, fifis congamphlgh_ **

It was written in Enochian, and he was a little rusty, but he understood - through sheer dumb luck - the spell would turn him into a psychopomp, able to carry souls and beings from one world to another, and if Reapers could drop Him and Sam into the empty after their deaths, then he could jump in and save Cas. 

The ingredients were in ancient Latin instead, which made them easier to translate - thank fuck - and the majority they already had, or could be found at a local health shop with all the hippie-things. Like, flowers, incense and shit. 

But there were three that might be a bit harder. There was blood of a… something man - He quickly pulled up a search engine and checked the word, praying it wasn't a holy man like last time. Righteous. Haha, well...that was easy. 

The skull of an unholy man. (well, this time it was a  _ skull _ which is really weird but okay) Which could be…? A male stripper? A man who made a demon deal and died? Maybe he could go looking for Hitler's skull. The first… Or Second. After all, to the Victor go the spoils. 

He smiled faintly at the thought, before sobering and looking at the final Ingredient. 

The ring of a widower. 

Well. Either he was going to have to steal from some poor widow or he was going to have to multitask and find a man who was a widower and also made a demon deal. How fun. 

Dean sighed, before combing the web meticulously searching for men who made demon deals a few decades ago at least. He was not going to peel rotting flesh from a skull, no matter how desperate he was to find his Angel. 

~~~

A week full of late nights and finally, he had everything. Now he just had to figure out how to crush the skull into ash. He sighed, glad for the happy couple who were probably curled up in bed and not trying to turn bones into dust. Really, he was peachy with the whole situation, beside being free and Sam happy, he was pissed.

_ ‘Everything you do, you do for love’  _

He gathered his breath, and brought the sledgehammer down to the crown of the skull, watching it shatter. Again. Again. Again. Before long, his arms had a pleasant soreness between the joints and the skull was powder, which he was now trying to funnel into the witchcraft bowl.

He added the cedar chips, then mugwort roots, wormwood leaves, vampire fangs, jasmine pollen, and the indigo flower heads of the larkspur plant. He threw the ring into the bowl, grimacing at the smears of blood on the underside, before pulling out his hunting knife. It was a petit little thing, but useful for spells or a quick, hideable weapon. He cut a thin line through his palm, pursing his lips, trying to numb the pain, before squeezing, letting it drip into the bowl, muttering the Latin chant as he did, pretty confident that he got it right.

He pulled his hand away, and quickly wrapped it with a bandana, looking around to see if anything visible would happen. And...Nope? Nothing happening? He made a small judgmental noise, wondering if the spell even worked, just as the lights began to flicker, and yep, maybe he was a bit hasty in his assumption?

Black and white mist started to erupt from the bowl, and only now he realized that this may have been a stupid idea, and he should have consulted Sam about it, instead of leaving him out the loop. Golden ribbons spiraled around him, seeming to bond with something- his soul? He could see the brightness of his soul, the cracks where Hell had broken him and he’d pulled himself together with Cas' help. He could see the gold and the black and the white wrap around him and his soul and bind, and-

It wasn’t painful, it felt more like...Dying but peaceful? But his soul didn’t look like it was dying? He wasn’t injured so he shouldn’t be feeling like this-

A small shockwave shuddered through the dungeon he was in, and disorientated, dizzy and overwhelmed, he slumped against the wall, panting because that was...Interesting to say the least. He didn’t feel that different, but something was off. His heartbeat was louder, like he was in the middle of a fight and his breathing quieter. 

Okay, something happened, he shouldn’t have doubted the spell. He would have held his hands up in surrender if the spell were sentient. 

Pushing himself back upright, he looked to the wall the Empty appeared weeks before-

_ Thick, viscous, midnight black goo ate away at the wall, a faint whistling of emptiness ringing in his ears. It made wet noises that made his stomach turn and Cas was going to be stuck there forever. No, No, N- _

_ “Cas-” _

He could do this. Something had changed in him, and if it was what he wanted changed, then this would be easy! Hopefully.

“I...uh… I want to enter the Empty.” And with his weak declaration, he imagined prying the wall open with his mind, like he imagined flying when he was hosting Michael from Apocalypse Land. He imagined the walls parting for him, and in their place, a black, empty portal that could lead him to the place he wanted, to the step up from Hell that would have been Tartarus in Greek Mythology if Hell was just the Underworld.

He closed his eyes, forcing the world to obey to his whim, feeling through his chest and gut just how close he was to Cas, how close he was to getting his happy ending. Him, Cas, Sam and Eileen all at the beach, feet in the sand, cute little cocktails with mini umbrellas that are overpriced but brought to you. He could  _ feel it- _

And when he opened his eyes, the portal was there, just as he imagined.


	2. Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt to write. I'm so sorry-
> 
> at least the ending is sweet-

The grinding, sharp sound of metal-on-metal pierced Cas’ ears as he pushed himself up into a seating position, watching Billie and Gabriel exchange blows with elegance only found from years of fighting. How was Gabriel awake? They should all be asleep, suffering through their worst nightmares. What happened?

‘Gabriel? I never knew one of my reapers took you. Who got the drop on you? Or did you die from too much sugar?” A falsely sweet smile fell on her face as her blade fell to him, his small blade keeping her back with skill.

“Trust me, I died a more heroic death than you, Miss-I-just-got-eaten-by-a-vacuum”

“Heroic? Never thought anyone would call the Archangel of cowards th-” She suddenly stopped, eyes blown wide. The empty was consuming her, and it was slowly doing so, as her arms shook and her scythe dropped. Within seconds she was gone.

“Finally. Never thought she’d shut up. So, Cassie. How’d you get he-”

Castiel was nowhere to be found.

~~~~

“How in the hell are we supposed to trust you now?”

It was all falling apart. They were slowly losing their faith in him - he could see it on Sam’s face, on Dean’s, Bobby’s. 

“I’m still me, I’m still your friend!” They don’t believe him.

“Sam,” He softened his voice, searching for any shred of empathy he could grab, “I’m the one who raised you from Perdition!”

“What?” Shock settled on his features, before anger and resentment made a sudden appearance.

“Well, no offense, but you did a pretty piss-poor job of it.” 

He just wanted to help.

“Wait. Did you bring me back soulless on purpose?”

His stomach hardened, as if he were about to throw up.

“Do you think that?”

All he was doing was to protect them, Protect Dean, Protect his friends. They would go to heaven, and if he couldn’t stop this, Raphael would get his hands on them. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Well, I’m thinking a lot of things right now, Cas”

He searched wildly, trying to say something, anything to try and show them that this was the right choice, the only choice he could make. Maybe working with Crowley was a bad idea, but it was a means to an end and the end justifies the means.

“You had a choice, you just made the wrong one”

~~~~~~~

“You need to run, now!” Cas pushed Dean and Bobby away, urging them forwards, away.

“I-I can't hold them back.” His voice cracked, as everything in him fought those vile monsters trying to kill him, subdue him so they could take his body and escape.

“Hold who back?” Dean asked. His voice, the concern gave him energy, but it was gone almost as fast as it arrived.

“They held on inside me...Dean, they’re so strong.” Cas panted, trying to fight, trying to keep them at bay-

“Who the hell-”

“Leviathan!” Cas exclaimed, everything in him feeling torn at the seams. He was losing.

“I can't fight them.” The look of despair and worry on Dean’s face, just as it had urged him on earlier, made him pause for long enough, the Leviathan seized the weak control Cas had over his body.

“Too late”

“Cas?”

“Cas is...he’s gone” No, he was not.

“He’s dead” He’s _ trying  _ to take back control

“We run the show now”

The leviathan threw Dean and Bobby around, smiling so much it hurt his cheeks, but it just wouldn’t stop-

“Now this is going to be so much fun.”

~~~~~~

“Cas?” Dean’s shaky voice called out.

“Cas, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but if you’re in there and you can hear me, you don’t have to do this.” He assured Cas

“Cas!”

Suddenly he was in heaven, facing Naomi, “This isn’t right.”

“Do you realize what that tablet can do for us?” She explained, face contorted in restrained anger

“I-I-”

“For heaven?”

“I won't hurt dean.” Cas settled on, looking determinedly at Naomi.

“Yes. you will.” She assured him,

“You are.”

Cas brought his fist down to Dean’s face, watching blood meander down his features, emotionless on the outside, yet pained profoundly on the inside.

“Cas, fight this, this is not you!” He begged, but not for himself, For Cas.

“Fight it!”

“What have you done to me!?” He demanded, furious, yet so confused, disorientated, because they kept switching back and forth from Earth to Naomi’s room.

“Just relax Castiel, let your vessel do what deep down you know is the right thing.” She eased him, failing wonderfully.

“What have you done to me, Naomi?” He asked, more broken than before, fighting his every nerve to stop hurting Dean Winchester.

“Who’s Naomi?” The very man asked, overhearing him questioning Naomi, but apparently in the wrong world.

“What have I done to you? Do you have any idea what it’s like out there? There’s blood everywhere and it's on your hands!” She exclaimed, poison in her words.

“After everything you did,” She heaved breaths in, regardless of not needing them.

“To us, to heaven...I fixed you, Castiel!” She exclaimed, voice growing louder and louder and louder.

**_“I fixed you”_ **

“Cas,” Dean’s voice was strained and his face bruised and painted red.

“You want it? Take it...but you’re gonna have to kill me first.” He stated, kneeling, looking up at Castiel, green eyes full of trust.

“Come on, you coward, Do it!” He taunted, wanting him to do it.

“DO IT!”

“Please…” Castiel begged Naomi, pleading for her to let him leave Dean alive.

“End this, Castiel”

~~~~

“This is the end...of everything” Michael despaired, the blood on his face dripping down onto his clothes and onto the floor.

“No.”

“What if…” Dean started, unsure, then suddenly certain,

“What if you had your sword?”

“Dean, no-” Cas tried to stop him-

“I am your sword, your perfect vessel… with me you’d be stronger than you’ve ever been.” Dean began to sell himself, trying to persuade Michael to agree before he’d even asked.

“Oh, I know what you are.” Michael smiled, fighting the pain from his meatsuit.

“If we work together...Can we beat lucifer?” Dean asked, looking for confirmation they had even a snowball’s chance at beating him

“Dean-”

“Can we?”

“We have a chance.” Michael confirmed, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Dean, we can't.” Cas tried once more, concern lacing his voice.

“Lucifer has Sam, he has Jack; Cas I don't have a choice” Dean exclaimed, his hopelessness plain as day on his handsome face. He truly believed this. And it might actually be true as well.

“We can do this, but it's a one time deal. I’m in charge.” Dean explained, “You’re the engine and I’m behind the wheel, Understand?”

~~~~   
  


“God or no god, you go to hell” Dean concluded, defiant to the Almighty

“Fine, have it your way.” A small smile graced his thin lips, and before any of them realized what they had done, Jack’s grace was pouring from his eyes, mouth, ears, every open orifice on his body.

“Jack, Jack!” Cas called out, moving to his side, fighting tears because his _ son  _ needed him, and he needed to help  _ somehow _ -

“Stop it! stop it!” Dean screamed, but it was just background at this point because  _ Jack was dying _ and he couldn't do anything, and he was in excruciating pain and he was  _ powerless- _

“Jack!”

~~~~~~~

“Stop it, Stop it!” Cas groaned, tears streaming down his face, flushed with the effort to stop, to stop crying, to stop suffering. His throat burned and everything felt limp, disattached.

Darkness, despair, everything bad he’d ever felt was flooding his every being second and it was excruciating. 

“Please! I can’t-”

The darkness was chased away by a faint glow of white light in the distance. The cold clutching his heart thawed and everything seemed better, less destructive, like the eye of a hurricane but less temporary. It was bliss.

The light grew, and grew until he recognized the shape, the brightness, the mark on its shoulder.

How could he ever not recognize this man?

“Dean?”

Then, with a firm grip on his left shoulder, he was raised from Perdition, a weak, watery smile on his face. 


	3. I love you too

The two men groaned, thrown back onto the dungeon floor, Dean landing on the bowl that he cast the Psychopomp spell with, rolling over onto his back, just beside Cas. 

“Cas-” He pushed himself up, turning over to examine the man, checking for any injuries, anything he needed to fix, unless he wanted Cas back in the Empty, which he didn't.

“Dean.” He groaned, trying to push himself up on his forearms, seconds from vomiting because that ride was bumpier than last time. 

“You alright, you’re not hurt?” He pulled Cas up into a kneeling position, looking over his face with a depth of worry and concern he reserved for when Sam was dying. The only blood on Cas was the handprint on his trench coat, matching the handprint on Dean’s Jacket. 

Cas nodded, then the two just looked at each other, ignorant to everything around them, as if they could get lost in each other. 

“Cas, I-”

The alarms throughout the bunker deafened them, turning on suddenly and scaring the two, Sam’s alarmed voice echoing beside the drone of the alarm. 

“Later.” Cas promised, heart falling to his stomach. 

Dean pulled Cas up and the two ran towards the war room, where Sam likely was. Within seconds the two ran up behind Sam, who was looking at the table in the middle of the room, shining bright red, with hundreds of red dots, all shining as bright as they could. 

“Dean-” Sam turned around, feeling someone behind him, only to be greeted with Dean and Cas. 

“Cas”

The sirens suddenly stopped, and the lights disappeared. It was over. 

Sam looked at the two, and regardless of his happiness at seeing Cas alive and well, he turned to Dean.

“What did you do?!” He demanded, anger bubbling up under the exterior. They had fought so hard to not have to deal with world-ending events, to not have to follow Chuck’s ludacris story, and now they’d fallen right into another convoluted plot. 

“I got Cas back. I...I’m not sure what happened but-” Dean began to justify-

“Everyone is awake. They’ve escaped.” Cas interrupted, trying to bring up a different topic. 

“All it would take is a single entrance or exit and hundreds, if not thousands of Angels and Demons could drag themselves back to the Corporeal world” Cas began to reason, His own experience and knowledge piecing together the problem they were facing. 

“So, we’re fighting all the angels and demons we’ve ever killed, excluding those with The Colt?” Sam asked, already tired from the war to come.

“Sounds like it,” Dean muttered, guilt beginning to eat him alive. He should have been more careful, He should have practiced with Hell or Heaven or _something_ else, and now every demon they’d ever faced - Ruby, _Alistair_ , every single demon they killed - Every single Angel they’d faced - Raphael, Both Michaels, Zachariah - was now alive again _at the same time_ , all looking to kill them-

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked, looking like he was about to put a hand on his shoulder, before stopping himself.

“I...I did this-”

“You should have told me. This is fine, we can...we can do this, But you should have told me!” Sam exclaimed, shaky even on his own determination.

Silence settled on them, before Sam looked at the table, then his clothes. 

“Lets sleep tonight, then tomorrow, we’ll look to see if any demon signs or angel sightings are in the news, see the damage.” Sam looked at them, looking at Dean with sadness, then at Cas, before smiling weakly,

“I...I’m glad you’re back, Cas.” He nodded, before walking off to his room, trying to process everything that just happened, leaving Dean and Cas in the Library.

~~~~

“Dean, I-”

“No. Shut up. Shut the hell up and let me speak.” His voice was weak, but no louder or quieter than normal, so Cas let him. 

“You…” He seemed to struggle with his words, looking at Cas with the weeks of heartbreak settling in at once.

“You said so much to me...and you meant it all.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, as if he knew this. 

“You’re right.” He nodded, beginning to get teary-eyed.

“I...I saw myself as angry and destructive an- and broken.” He admitted, trying to keep the tears back, because if this was going to become a chick-flick, it would be as non-cliché-d as possible!

“But...When we defeated Chuck-” Castiel’s eyes widened, and he nodded, promising silently he’d tell him the details later.

“When we defeated Chuck, He called me a killer, he knew I was made of anger and wanted him dead…” He trailed off, looking into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

“I knew that wasn’t who I was. You knew that too.” Tears were falling now, from both of them, and Dean cursed his emotions as violently as he could

“You told me...that-that I’d changed you, but you also changed me.” He admitted, moving closer to Cas.

“Cas. I need you. Without you...It’s…” He trailed off, trying to find any word that describes just how bad it was.

“Well, I’d rather not do it.” He settled on, hoping it was enough.

“You mean so much to me. And…”

He looked to the floor of his bedroom, fighting back the tears-

“I love you too.” 

He took the final step forwards, and pressed his lips chastely to Cas’, feeling the other man sink into it the moment they joined together. In him, something exploded, Dean could feel the warmth erupt through his chest and the sparks lighting up every nerve. Being like this, with Cas. He’d imagined it - they both had - but he never _dreamt_ that it could be real one day!

The two moved in harmony, deepening the kiss, passion and love leaking in as they explored each other's mouths, hands moving to hold the other, by the hips, or with a gentle caress over their cheeks and by the sides of the face. It was exactly how it was supposed to be, teeth clicking, tentative moves, and body pressed against body. 

Cas began to push Dean back, never breaking the connection between the two, towards the end of his bed, letting his weight bring him down so his back lay flush on his memory foam mattress, Castiel towering over him. The two breathed heavily, waiting to see who’d make the first move, to see what would happen.

Castiel reached down, hand resting on Dean’s belt in a very loud silent question, nervousness coating his shining face. 

Dean shook his head, and Castiel nodded in acceptance, moving around the side of the bed, and sitting down, back to the headboard. He guided Dean, so he was laying beside him, and then silence settled in the room.

“Jack’s God now.” Dean blurted out, unsure of how to broach the topic

Cas was silent for a while, contemplating the idea,

“I always knew he would be a good influence on the world.” Cas smiled, mindlessly running his fingers through Dean’s hair as he spoke.

“Myeah-” Dean pressed his head into the trench coat, agreeing while enjoying the contact.

“God was...well, a lot of things, but benevolent was not one, and now it’ll be good to see how Jack runs things.”

“ ‘s plannin’ to stay quiet.” 

“Oh…” Cas trailed off, looking down at Dean, who had his eyes closed, a soft smile on his face, and while he was...sad that he wouldn’t be able to join Jack for his midnight snacks again or chat about random things he seemed to enjoy, it wasn’t horrible. He knew deep down that Jack was with them, wherever they went, and while it might be illogical and selfish, he hoped his son would pay them a personal visit some day.

“How did you get into the empty?” Cas asked, voice quiet just in case Dean was sleeping.

“Enochian spell ‘bout guidin’ souls” Dean’s voice was sleepy and drawn out, so Castiel hummed a song under his breath - ‘Hey Jude’ by The Beatles - and listened as Dean’s breathing evened out. Castiel wiped his face with his free hand, cleaning it of tears before looking on Dean’s desk, hoping to see which spell he used.

A singular book lay open, on a page with an Enochian title and Ancient Latin describing the spell in vague terms before listing the ingredients. He reached for it. And held it just above his lap, as to not disturb the man beside him. 

**_Become Death, A carrier of souls_ **

_This spell will turn the caster or their desired subject into a psychopomp - a guide for souls to take them where they belong._

Did Dean know what he was doing when he cast this spell? Did he know about the repercussions, the actual effect. This wasn’t a portal spell or an attraction spell like he had assumed, It was a spell much stronger than what they usually used. A transmutation spell.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't write any explicit smut, but there will be references later on, I think.


	4. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, this hasn't been edited yet, but shouldn't have many - if any - spelling mistakes. If it does, I'm sorry, and once I finish the story, I'll go back over it all and edit it and describe it more.

When the morning finally comes, Cas is off to talk to Jack with some privacy, and Sam and Dean settle down in the kitchen, eating breakfast with a tense silence permeating the atmosphere around them, until-

“I didn’t know if it’d work.” Dean mutters, quiet enough Sam barely hears it. 

“Everything was going so well for you, and I didn’t want to ruin that with broken hope... _ I  _ didn’t want it not to work.” He admitted, taking a sip of his coffee, avoiding Sam’s gaze.

“I understand how much this meant to you, Dean. I just, I could have been some help. How did you do it, then? Get Cas out?” He asked, eating a spoonful of his fruit bowl breakfast.

Dean cringed, and took a bite of his pancakes, before explaining “It was a spell to guide souls to where they should be. The ingredients were fun to get.” He scoffed, remembering the Widow’s ring.

Cas walked in, a smile on his face, and a phone in his hand.

“There are still dots on the table, and apparently some are located near Sioux Falls, so I assumed we would meet up with Claire, Alex and Jody”

His trench coat was different, lighter  _ like before _ , and the handprint was gone. He looked just as he always had, but happier. Much happier

“Morning Sunshine” Dean gave Cas a lazy grin before taking another long swig from his cup.

“That’s not a bad shout, Cas. Let us finish breakfast and get our stuff together, and we can be there by the afternoon.”

~~~~~~

Pulling into the drive of Jody’s house, ‘Enter Sandman’ suddenly cut off during the first chorus and the three men got out, to be greeted by Claire and Kaia, who both moved in for greetings and hugs. Jody and Alex were working, so for now, It was just them. 

They moved into the living room, sitting down, beginning to catch up on recent hunts they'd gone on - mostly the two girls since they were much more active as of late compared to the men sitting opposite them. 

"So, when did you two finally get together? You've been dancing around each other for years." Claire smirked at the blush that formed on Dean's face, accompanied by a glare. Cas just smiled, and muttered something about hours. 

"Jody owes me $50 now, so thank you guys," Claire held her glass up in a 'cheers' motion before chugging the whole thing in victory. Kaia just huffed with amusement beside her and leaned back. 

"I owe several people money because I really did not see this coming." Sam admitted, and Dean guffawed at comment, and elbowed Sam as the chuckles slowly faded. 

"I'm gonna go get a drink." Sam gave a glare to his brother, a smile quirking the corners of his lips up as he moved away, towards the kitchen. 

"I'm only going to say this once, hurt each other and I'll kick both your asses" 

Dean raised an eyebrow, a proud smile on his face, "you really think you could kick either of our asses?" 

"sure do, old man" 

"old-" Dean huffed, rolling his eyes. 

Sam came back in with a drink for both him and Dean, and sat back down. 

"so, I'm assuming this visit isn't just social?" Kaia asked, sneaking an arm around her girlfriend. 

"unfortunately not. The Empty was opened and every demon and Angel ever killed has escaped. Excluding a few like Azazel, who were killed with the Colt" Cas explained. "I believe there are a couple angels in the area, I can feel their grace from here."

"Well, that's comforting. Any idea who?" Dean asked, taking a sip from his mug. 

"No, they're familiar, but so are most angels to each other." Cas sighed, nerves settling in his stomach, twisting everything around painfully. 

"When Jody gets back, we'll spread out and look around town for them." Claire stated, nodding her head, and settling the plan. 

~~~~~~~

It was dark out, now, and Claire and Dean were leading the group around Bobby's old house. It was still in ruin, and still had burn marks from where the Leviathan set it alight, but the main shape of the building held true. 

"So, you're gay too?" Claire asked, smiling cheekily. 

"Not gay" Dean mumbled in reply, already feeling awkward. Coming out was for teens discovering who they were, not 40-odd year olds. It just felt awkward. 

"okay, what are you?" 

"... Bi?" 

"That explains so much." Claire grinned, elbowing him

"So, did you two… Roll about in the hay?" 

"Do you really need to know that?" Claire laughed as Dean's face lit up pink

"No, but it's fun to tease you." she admitted, pulling her angel blade out. 

The group weaved between wrecked cars, aiming for the main house, when voices echoed through the scrapyard. 

"Well, I would pay to see what happened to the poor bugger that burned down Robert Singer's House." The voice sounded British and high pitched, and a short, deep laugh followed the comment. 

"Indeed."

"Balthazar, What do you think has happened while we were dead?" 

"The Winchesters fucking with the universe is what I'd put my money on. $100 that they're the reason we're alive now." 

"Better get your wallet out, Uriel. He's right." Dean called out, Sam following close behind. The girls and Cas staying back, wary of the two angels. 

"Boys! Thank you for the dramatic save, but what on earth is going on and what year is it?" 

"it's 2020, and-" 

"2020? The Apocalypse-" Uriel began

"was a bitch, but we stopped it." 

"What happened when I popped off to The Empty?" Balthazar asked, hands in his tiny pockets. 

Sam began to explain, "Cas stopped the Civil war by killing… Everyone on Raphael's side. He accidentally let the Leviathan out-" 

"Leviathan!?" The two exclaimed

"are you gonna let us finish explaining what happened or not?" Dean asked, a severe look falling on his face, and the two reluctantly settled. 

Sam and Dean quickly explained the events of the past decade, feeling older after every calamity they explained. Balthazar seemed to find it almost funny, and Uriel was unresponsive, as if trying to silently figure out how neither Lucifer or Heaven won, but the humans he looked down upon.

"So, where is Cassie, then?" Balthazar asked, looking around. 

And as if summoned, Castiel appeared through the door to the side of the room, looking at his once closest friends. Before the Winchesters. Before they died. Before he helped or personally killed them. 

"Hello." He nodded slightly, mouth suddenly going dry when finally faced with Uriel and Balthazar. 

"Cas…" Balthazar froze up, looking as if he had seen a ghost, despite looking for Castiel seconds before. 

"Castiel!" Uriel called out, anger furrowing his brow. The last thing he saw before he died was Castiel. The very angel before him now. 

Uriel advanced towards the nervous angel, as Dean walked up beside him, trying to get him to stop, to hear reason. Uriel pushed him away, letting him stumble as he moved forwards to Castiel, only to hear a piercing sound and a gasp, a strained groan. 

Dean's Lively emerald eyes were already glassing over, and crimson blood was streaming down from a rusted, silver nail that pierced through his throat. Blood shot over his chin, his clothes, the floor, and before anyone could move to help, to heal him, he was gone. 

"Dean!" Sam called out, rushing to his side, looking over him, joined by Claire and Jody, All slowly taking in that he was gone.

Cas blinked, something inside him snapping. He had spent over a decade fighting for that man, to be happy with him, and a day after he finally had him as he wanted him, a partner, a lover, he was taken from him. 

"Uriel." His voice was calm, but something about his demeanor changed, and Uriel felt something sharp cut through him, urging his body to shake, to fight or flee. 

Cas' wings glowed behind him, not the glorious, full appendages they once were - feathers were missing and they were burned slightly - but they were intimidating nonetheless. 

Uriel barely had time to get his blade out - In fact, he was 0.86 seconds away from having it in a firm grip, before Castiel disappeared for a moment, before appearing behind the troublesome angel, blade poised at his throat, pressing deep, but not enough to pierce or kill. The blade dropped to the floor, and Uriel tried to shy away from the blade, but had nowhere to go. 

Castiel moved his blade away, the tip pushing Uriel's head back onto his shoulder. The look he gave him was empty, was angry, was hurt, all in one. His muscles tensed, ready to press the blade in, only to be grabbed from beside him, held back. 

"D-Dean?" 

He was standing there, the hole in his throat shining, and closing over slowly. Something about his soul had changed, but in the center, he was just the same as he always was. 

"Leave him be" Dean guided Castiel's hand back to his side and they both watched Uriel move away, shakily brushing his suit back to its former glory. 

Sam walked up to his brother, face wet with drying tear tracks, "I don't think that spell just opened a hole to the empty" 

"I made the hole myself." He admitted, "It did something to my soul, and I made the hole" 

Cas looked Dean up and down, piecing together everything that happened, everything he knew, and finally:

“You’re Death”


	5. Hello, Boys

Dean looked down at his blood-soaked body, his bloody hands, coated in the thick crimson from his own throat. He looked no different than he always had - Scars, muscles, same style of clothes (Lumberjack, as Cas once insisted) - But he had to admit that he died. He knew the feeling oddly well. After all, besides Prometheus, he had probably died the most in all creation. He had been brought back and healed, he could teleport. He looked exactly as he always had, but something was different.

“I think you might be right” His voice was weak, rough - as expected - as he looked at Cas. 

“Let's go back to the bunker and sort this out, yeah?” Jody stated, looking to see if anyone had any qualms with her plan. The bunker had more books than her place, and would more likely have something on reapers

The group agreed, Though the two new angels still looked nervous or discomforted by the plan. They all walked out to the car, both Angels frowning at the idea of squishing themselves into a car with Humans - and an Angel, and Death - but it's the principle of the matter!

Everyone else was already in the car, waiting to take the 5 hour trip, Jody calling The Police Station, as well as Alex and Kaia to explain she would ge gone on a family crisis for a little while, and to not burn the place down (the same message was roughly said to both the Station as well as her adoptive daughters). 

“Look, You got to get in the car, I don't trust either of you enough to be in the bunker alone and I’m not leaving you with anyone here, and I won't let them drive, so get your ethereal asses in here.”

“No, It’s one thing to attempt to have a civil conversation with _ mud monkeys _ but it’s entirely another thing to lower myself and cram myself into that moving death-trap with two other angels and a reaper.” Uriel argued, hands clasped powerfully in front of himself

Dean just sighed, He had not been expecting the shock he was kicked with in the groin today, and all he wanted was to be back at the bunker. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, imagining now the long hallways that once unnerved him, but now felt like a home he could fill with family. He saw the old art-deco designs that could be found everywhere, and the slightly more modern, but still ancient (70 years ancient-) lamps and computers and light table in the war room. He saw Baby in the large garage, beside other classic beauties he made sure to restore in his free time and get to a working condition. He exhaled and opened his eyes, ready to compromise with the angels and to try again, only to find himself standing in the Garage of the Bunker, his family in the car and the two angels he had been attempting to persuade in front of him. 

“Huh.” Dean muttered, looking around with an impressed look. They should be back in South Dakota, arguing on how to be here, not actually here, and he had just brought everyone in their group, and Baby (which was 8 people, including the best car in the world) all by himself. This wasn’t a bad gig at all. 

“Did you just fly us all here?” Balthazar asked, leaning in, confused and not expecting this turn of events

“Yes he did” Cas climbed out of the Impala, followed by Claire, with a proud, loving smile on his face. 

~~~~

“Hello Boys. And Ladies, pleasure to see you again.” Crowley sat at the head of the table in the library, a crystalline glass of a dark amber drink in his hand, feet up and crossed over each other in a relaxed manner. 

“Crowley?-”

“Last I remember is stabbing myself,” He turned to face Dean and wink, “In the unsexy way. Then I wake up in the English South Downs,” He shivered when he mentioned England, as if revulsed by the mere mention of the country, “With a gay bookseller and his Saint Laurent rock husband making sure I wasn’t dead. On top of this, I can't access Hell. When something like this happens, It's almost always connected with The Winchesters.”

Sam and Dean almost looked offended at the final statement Crowley made, but their hearts weren’t in it because  _ yeah,  _ he was right. All the world ending events the past decade have been on the Winchester’s shoulders.

“He’s right” Balthazar chimes in, the smirk practically screaming through his tone. “You three seem like magnets for disasters.” He teased, crossing his arms. 

“So, how have you been getting on without me?”

“Well, I managed to open a hole in the Empty and let all the beings in there out...” Dean trailed off, realizing that maybe there were positives to this disaster beyond having Cas back.

“At least when you do something, you go big.” Crowley chuckled, before sipping at his drink, listening as - for the second time today - the group had to explain what happened.

Crowley finished off his drink like a shot, slammed the cup down, without breaking it, and sighed heavily. 

“The big man, himself? You boys really know how to pick ‘em”, Claire snorted in agreement with Crowley, moving to pour herself a drink too, still wary of the demon, but more relaxed than when she initially smelt the sulfur he put out. 

“Are you really going to pour yourself a hard drink right in front of me?” Jody asked, eyebrows raised

Claire had the benevolence to look guilty for a second, before Crowley poured her a drink, refilled his glass, and gave her a little cheers motion before sipping his drink.

“Well, there are a few people I’d love to get my hands on that passed before I could. But, before I begin to recite my pledge of allegiance, Where’s the Old Hag?” He asked, watching Claire check her drink wasn’t poisoned, before trying it, and coughing slightly at the burn, nodding in appreciation like a teen who’s gone to far too many parties and still hasn’t developed the proper tolerance to the feel of straight alcohol yet.

“She...uh, She took over Hell when she died.” Sam explained, the familiar guilty feeling settling in his stomach, before dissipating when he reminded himself she loved her new job very much and she had to die to get there in the first place.

“Mummy’s running Hell? And she hasn’t gone mad with power?” Crowley scoffed with disbelief

“Miracles really can happen”

~~~~~

“Why are you getting the ingredients for a spell, Moose? Are you going to actually try to turn yourself into a moose for once?”

Sam gave Crowley Bitchface no.31, meaning  _ ‘Fuck off, Crowley’ _

_ “ _ Actually, I’m making a spell to take you to Hell. Rowena, she...She really misses you. She tried to bargain for your life.” Sam began to explain, but Crowley was looking at some of the ingredients like it was a fine wine and he was a taster, not entirely paying attention to Sam. The moose in question sighed, before getting the final ingredients and walking back to the library, praying he didn’t drop anything.

The spell was slow to assemble, but came along successfully, and with the chatter of the group they had accumulated behind him, Sam chanted the final incantation and watched the bowl burst into blue flames that grew every second. 

Crowley looked at the flaming bowl with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing as Sam walked up to his side, gave him a small nod, and dragged him up to the bowl, and before either knew it, they were tumbling into Hell, and landing on their asses.

“Bit of a bumpy ride.” 

“Shut up” Sam groaned.

Crowley snickered as he stood up, looking at the hunter beside him doing the same thing.

“So, where’d we end up?-”

“Samuel, don’t tell me you’ve died so soon,” Crowley froze up, recognizing the scottish tilt to the accent, “Unless you’ve come down for another joint spa session, then-”

“Mother?”

The clicking of heels got louder and louder, the sound coming more and more often, until it sounded like running. Before he could prep himself, Rowena rounded the corner meters ahead of them. Her braided hair was windswept from running, and her face a look of shock.

“Fergus?” She took tentative steps forward, unsure if this was a trick or if Sam had actually brought her boy back to her. 

“Look’s like you took queendom well.” He gave a cheeky, closed-lipped smile, 

“Oh, Fergus” Her voice became watery, as she closed the distance between the two and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing on his shoulder.

  
Later on, when the emotions had finally calmed down and been set aside, the two would pretend the hug and the crying never happened, and would return to their good-natured jabs at each other when catching up. But neither would forget that moment, the second they let themselves become closer as mother and son. Because, while the two hated each other with the best of intentions, they were never against being close to fuck everyone else up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so elated when I heard latin america said fuck homophobia, I got a rush of creativity and finished this chapter


	6. Cosmopolitan

Rowena shooed the two men away, declaring that they had overstayed their welcome in the nicest possible way she could, and urged them to call or text forehand should they want to meet up again at any time in the future because surprise visits were always a hassle.

The two men gave rowena kisses on her cheeks as they parted, promising to stay in touch as they entered the portal once more, taking themselves back to the bunker, where the spell looked like it had been fed more kindlin recently. Sam pulled his phone out to check the time, and-

It had been almost a day up on earth, and they had spent that time sipping tea with the queen of Hell. The two looked at each other and chuckled nervously, eager to see how the angels settled in with the group dynamic. 

~~~~~~

“Look, Balthazar, Uriel, I-”

“You killed us!” Uriel exclaimed, already furious

“Anna killed you, I-”

“But you killed me?” Balthazar asked, eyes squinted in hurt. 

Castiel sighed, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms, not entirely sure how to have this conversation. 

“I cannot apologise for something I didn’t do Uriel, but I am sorry you had to die.” Cas began, looking his friend in the eyes as he spoke, before turning to Balthazar.

“And Balthazar, I am...so tremendously sorry for what I did. You were only trying to help, I know now. I killed you for helping the Winchesters when that’s all I do” He tried to joke, but neither laughed, though Uriel smirked at the comment.

“You both, You both were my closest of friends, my family, and I am sorry you passed, and I am sorry for being there and for hurting the both of you-” Tears were welling in his eyes the longer he looked at them, remembering the moment the grace fled from their eyes, their mouths widened from the pain, in a furious scream of agony that was the last thing either said before collapsing to the ground, their meatsuits cold and lifeless, from grace or soul. Life was one disaster after another, so he never had time to properly mourn his lost friends, but now they were back and he didn’t know how to express the complex emotions swirling fitfully inside him.

“I..I understand why you did what you did-” 

“But you shouldn’t, Balthazar!” Cas’ voice raised, pain in his eyes, “What I did was inexcusable and all you were doing was trying to be good, moral…” Castiel trailed off, looking to the floor either side of him, trying to apologise, but get balthazar to understand-

“Cassie, shut up and listen. I was..okay, am pissed. I am pissed that you killed me, but it's water under the bridge and do you want to know why?” He asked, stepping forwards

“Because while the winchesters are your family, you are mine, and I won't let something as stupid as death stop me from being your ridiculous gay cousin- oh no, you’re the gay cousin. What am I then?” He turned to Uriel, who looked at him like he’d grown a second set of wings.

Castiel let out a watery chuckle, and turned to Uriel, who looked like he was trying to say something. 

“These...humans...They truly exceeded everything I knew them to be.” He muttered, patted Cas on the shoulder, before walking off to the door behind the fallen angel and disappearing as quickly as he could. Both the remaining angels looked at eachother, and shrugged in confusion over their brother’s actions, before resting their dominant hand on the matching shoulder of the other and smiling, glad to be close with their sibling once more. 

~~~~~~~

“Have you guys found anything yet?” Dean asked, kicking away from the table and sighing as dramatically as he could, exhausted from the day they had spent doing nothing but scouring the internet for signs of angelic or demonic activity. Would hunter numbers decrease due to the influx of monsters in the world? Angels weren’t as likely to be violent and hostile as demons, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t.

Grumbles came from everyone else doing research, until Claire popped her head up, a proud look of excitement plastered on her as she began to speak

“Okay, so on the west coast of america, they’ve been commenting on storms that have slowly begun passing over the rest of the country. No idea where they came from, can’t believe you guys missed that-”

“Hey!-”

“But, they’re extremely concentrated in this one state, and this one city in particular. It seems like the eye of the storm, if you will. There is little thunder or lightning there, though it is cloudy. The surrounding states and ocean aren’t getting the same kind of gentle attention.”

“Sounds like Raphael.” Dean commented with a frown. They had barely gotten rid of Raphael last time, and that was with Cas going full-fledged God for it to work. And they didn’t even have an Archangel on their side to help them out. This was terrific! Not.

Eileen leaned forwards over Sam’s laptop, a frown on her face as she clarified, “The Archangel Raphael...right?”

Dean nodded, doing his best to fit his words with the appropriate sign in BSL, instead of ASL, because - unbeknownst to him - the person who was teaching him at the bar whenever he had a free moment, was actually English, but scarce spoke like Eileen did, so no accent was recognisable. 

“Yep. Last time Cas killed him, but he was God, so he won’t be able to kill him again. We need another Archangel-”

“Or you could do it, if you could learn how to be Death” Kaia muttered just loud enough to be heard, looking at the group of experienced hunters around her look like they had completely forgotten that and were already in the process of beating themselves up about it.

“That’s an awesome idea, Sweetheart.” Claire pressed a quick kiss to her Girlfriend’s cheek, watching a small blush form on her smiling cheeks. The two adults shook their heads with a smile on their face, reminiscing on their young experiences of love.

“It is a good idea, except I have no damn idea what I’m doing most of the time, let alone with my own mojo now. I’m a disaster waiting to happen.” Dean explained, partially wishing he never became Death because that heralded a whole new calamity waiting to happen, just like what happened with the Mark of Cain...but hopefully less violence.

“You’re always a disaster waiting to happen” Claire rectified, a smirk on her face as she looked over the news report.

“I think we should risk it. We could get one of the angels to try to kill him, let them use one of the Archangel blades you didn’t think I noticed hidden in the library.”

Eileen smiled in pride at the young girl, and Dean just sighed like an overly tired dad who just needs a nap. And it was at this moment, Sam and Crowley walked back in. 

“Where did Jody go?” Sam asked immediately, walking up to behind Eileen and kissing her atop her head, watching her spin around, before calming and giving him a proper kiss. 

Dean coughed pointedly, teasing the two as he always strived to do,

"She needed to return to Sioux Falls, the station actually caught on fire." The two brothers shared a laugh, then Dean turned to Crowley, and raised a single eyebrow to him in a silent question about his recent holiday to Hell.

“Moose and I went and visited Mummy and had a wonderful debate over amazon and whether Jeff Bezos deserves to be on a rack for eternity. It seems I’m the only one who disagrees, purely because I don't want the rot in his soul to contaminate the place. Mummy was just upset they haven't got delivery downstairs yet.”

“She’s still on that?” Dean asked with an incredulous chuckle.

Uriel walked through, fixing his blazer as he did, surveying the room, and glaring at Crowley, before taking a seat at the head of the war table, opposite Eileen. 

“You’ve found something” He stated, looking at the two young women, requesting implicitly for them to explain the job they were about to take. 

They explained the thunderstorms and Dean’s observation that it reminded him of Raphael when they dealt with him during the Apocalypse.

Castiel crept up behind Dean and wrapped his arms around him, and proceeded to explain as if Dean wasn’t a blushing mess beneath him,

“We’ve dealt with Raphael a few times before. We trapped him in Holy Fire and I managed to obliterate his grace while in a super-powered state. However, with our current group, Our only hope is Dean figuring out how to harness his new abilities. If Death claimed he would kill God, then Death can surely kill Raphael.”

“He’s like a fledgling,” Balthazar waltzed into the room, and sat in the chair beside Dean, feet propped up on the table, “Remember when we were fledglings? We could fly circles around what he can do. No offense, but I have little hope he can do much against Raphael currently. What we need is an Archangel.” With a dramatic flourish of his hand, Balthazar brought a freakishly large wine glass to his hand filled to the brim with a boozy cosmopolitan he took a dainty sip of and nodded in approval.

“We can train him, I’m sure. After all, being younger than you elderly fluffballs, I learned my abilities far more recently and taught them far more recently too” Crowley stepped forwards, looking at Balthazar’s cocktail in envy, and going to pour himself a few fingers of whiskey.

“Once you two are done with your pissing contest over alcohol, can we please talk about the fact a demon and an angel is nothing similar to a primordial being?” Claire rolled her eyes, and kicked her feet up onto the table too, hands moving down to her legs.

“If I stabbed Uriel here,” Uriel frowned at the girl, “With an angel blade, he would die. If I were an archangel and stabbed Dean-o here with an archangel blade, it wouldn’t even leave a scar. Only Dean’s scythe can kill him, and I’ll bet 40 he can’t even do that yet.”

Dean sighed, and leaned back into Castiel, starting to get slightly annoyed over everyone talking about him like a weapon. He was their potentially strongest jack in the hole, but that was with lots of practice on how to be a reaper, and then how to be Death. Where was all the knowledge he was supposed to gain? The Power? All he currently could do was flap his wings like a talented pornstar wearing fabric fairy wings. 

Castiel leaned down as everyone else continued to discuss the issue, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, a smile quirking his lips as he did so. 

“We won’t choose anything you don’t want to do. When we get back to our room, I’ll try to give you a massage. I’ve found it can be relaxing and this whole situation must be anything but. “

Dean let a small smile creep onto his face and all the love he’s ever felt well in his eyes. 

“You’re an angel, Cas.”

With a perfectly straight face, Castiel replied, “I know.” And Dean smiled, because he could tell that it wasn’t Cas being clueless, but perhaps finally figuring out what he meant, and replying in with Star Wars reference. 

He loved his angel slightly more every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter is planned out, now I just need to find the energy and drive to type them. But with random Supernatural news coming out almost daily, that hopefully shouldn't be hard.


	7. Angel Blade

At the ass-crack of dawn, Claire, Kaia, Crowley, and Balthazar decided to take Claire’s Car to Atlantic City - much to the frustration of the angels who just wanted to fly there and not be crammed into a car for 3/4 of a whole day. Balthazar and Crowley shared a look that promised chaos as they walked towards the car, and Claire and Kaia followed, wary now. 

Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Uriel took Baby, and Sam relinquished the front seat to Cas with a small smile and a knowing look in Dean’s direction. When they all slipped into the car, the couple in the front sheared a chaste kiss before Dean started up the car. This earned them eye-rolls from the back seat. 

Eileen stayed behind voluntarily, prepared to catch up on some reading and taking care of Miracle, the dog the Winchesters adopted during their war with God.

The trip took a tiring 18 hours, and the drivers swapped with their passengers somewhere around the halfway point to get a break. 

When they finally arrived at the cheapest motel they could find, Cas and Uriel left to go book a room for the 4 of them to share, as they’d assume the girls were doing when they finally arrived. 

Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder before he slipped out the car, and held him there.

“Dean, I… I know we haven't gotten a chance to talk about everything that's happened the past few days,” He began, and Dean winced, knowing this was leading into chick-flick territory.

“I just want you to know that...No matter what happens, or what’s happened, you’re my brother, and-”

“Did you think I ever doubted you thought that?” Dean asked, looking at his brother in the rear-view mirror, “ You’re always the more touchy-feely one-”

“Not for long, with you and Cas.” He smiled, as Dean groaned in annoyance

“Bitch”

“Jerk”

“So, you're done now?” Dean asked, looking over his shoulder at Sam, hand on the handle of the car, waiting to leave.

“Yeah, and don’t go screwing Cas with both me and Uriel in the room, please.”

Dean guffawed, before winking and leaving without confirming or denying.

~~~~~~

Sam sighed for the 14th time in the last 9 minutes, and Balthazar cackled, continuing on his rant on why Pot Noodle were lying about their portion sizes and that If he wasn’t killed he would have fixed it before that bloody comedian. Atlantic city was large and the group had split up so they could cover the majority of the city before dusk, And Sam was already starting to regret his choice. 

“I’m just saying, America’s Healthcare system needs more than a bit of work, it needs remodelling. Just the whole thing.”

“This is the second time you have brought this up in as many hours, Balthazar. I’m begging you, stop.”

Balthazar snickered, before finally calming down, staying silent for all of 30 seconds, before,

“If I mix passion fruit vodka and orange juice, do I make a screwdriver cocktail or a J2O cocktail?”

Sam let out an ever-suffering sigh, and the pair continued their search.

~~~~~

Uriel and Kaia said little to each other as they traveled through the Northern side of Atlantic City, only stopping when Kaia saw an In-the-wall pizza place that she walked towards, almost losing Uriel in the street as she went to fetch them Lunch. 

Uriel stood in place, looking around, trying to find Kaia in the crowd, only to see her walking towards them with two slices of pizza in her hands, and a smile on her face. 

“I went and got us lunch!” She held a slice out to him, and began to devour hers, since breakfast had been a while ago. Uriel looked at it with furrowed brows, as if trying to examine what on God's green earth it was and why it was floppy. Kaia watched him in amusement as he tried to figure out what to do with it.

“You eat it. You know...chewing, swallowing, digesting?” She took another bite of her pizza, and watched him debate whether or not to consume the thing. Finally, he lifted it, and took a tentative bite, chewing, until he swallowed, and then muttered

“How can humans enjoy something that burns their mouth?”

Kaia guffawed, crouching over to try and compose herself, head in her free hand. Pulling herself upright, she met a confused angel, as she began to explain,

“You’re supposed to blow on it to cool it down, then you can taste the flavours.” She explained, taking another bite

~~~~~~~

Crowley and Dean were a nightmare during the daytime as they searched, the worst of the whole group.

“They look like the triplets we shagged while you were a demon.” Crowley reminisced, smiling. Dean remembered the three men they played foosball with, before seducing them into the best Orgy either had participated in. It was one of the first times Dean experimented with his sexuality, and one of the many times he and Crowley shared a sex partner. As Crowley said, they howled at the moon quite a lot, if the metaphor lands properly for you. 

Dean rolled his eyes, then looked around, pointing out a chavvy woman with a messy blonde bun atop her orange face, and smirked as he reminded Crowley of the woman he got an STD off during their stint, and Crowley chuckled in response, muttering about he only found out after a week and had given it to...more people than he knew in that time.

They continued to point out different people passing by who looked like people they’d screwed or killed during their best months together, until they stopped for a quick midday break.

“You could do worse.” Crowley commented, sipping his spiked tea from a paper cup.

Dean looked at him in confusion, before Crowley sighed, and began to clarify,

“You could do worse than Castiel.” He admitted, taking a longer sip before continuing, “ You were always wary about gay sex and queer relationships while we were prancing about as shameless demons. He’s sweet on you, and he knows that if he messes up, he’s got several people waiting to castrate him. And you, don't mess about with Castiel or I'm sure he’ll do it himself, or I’ll do it for him with a smile” Crowley gave his golden smile, watching Dean scoff and take a swig of his spiked coffee. 

“He’s too good for me,” Dean gave a self-deprecating smile, but then amended his statement, “but I’m trying to be worthy of him.”

Crowley gave Dean a firm pat on the shoulder, then downed the rest of his tea, watched Dean copy his action with his coffee, and the two moved on to keep searching the city for Raphael.

~~~~~~

Claire and Castiel were searching the south side of the city, and along the coastline, when Claire suddenly dragged him into a small diner, and ordered pancakes for her, and a milkshake for them each. Castiel looked at her food, and suddenly straightened himself

“I can't believe you and Dean lied to me. Ketchup is not a vegetable, It’s made from a fruit!”

Claire looked at him in confusion initially, before erupting into laughter, and Cas joined her soon after, and they both sobered, only for Claire to mumble something that set the two off again, unable to eat or drink as they slowly busted their seams laughing.

“Dean makes you happy, yeah?” Claire asked, calm now and a concerned look in her eyes.

Castiel nodded, smiling softly, “Romeo’s sonnets could not compare to how Dean makes me feel.”

“Alright, Not-Juliet, just don't go drinking any fake-poison.” Claire winked, and the two smiled, before digging into their food, or drinks, with gusto.

~~~

When Claire and Cas finished their Lunch and had sat around for a small while, chatting about nonsense that popped into their heads, and Claire showing Cas memes he could barely read that sent Claire into fits of giggles that rendered her breathless, The two continued down their search path, until they stood on the steps of The St Nicholas of Tolentine Church, looking up at the towering height and simplistic architecture. 

Claire walked in first, cautious but curious all the same, and Castiel followed, drawing his blade. The church was empty, an unusual occurrence during this time of the day, but neither commented on it. They walked down the central aisle, looking around, while staying close to each other, until they reached the end of the rows of pews.

They looked around for a few more seconds, before settling on the fact that Raphael wasn’t there. They turned back around, not liking the atmosphere of the Church, only to have Raphael in all her glory stood at the other end of the rows of pews, hands clasped in an intimidating manner.

“Castiel. Novak, I didn’t know you adopted your vessel’s bastard daughter. How sentimental of you. “ Raphael sneered, walking forwards slowly towards the two.

“You know, I had… a shred of respect for you before, but now, after you killed me, I’m starting to think it was just pity. I wonder how the world dealt with the Leviathan inside of you, Castiel. How you dealt with them clawing their way out from the inside. I would have liked to have seen that.” Raphael mused, watching Claire rial herself up and dart towards the Archangel, already over hearing her trash-talk her Dad.

She brandished her blade - one of the angel blades, whereas Castiel held the Archangel blade they had gathered, but with a simple flick of an unconcerned hand, Claire was thrown into the wall harshly, dropping to the floor, and coughing, trying to get rid of the ache in her chest.

“Leave her alone-” Castiel moved forwards, ready to protect Claire from further harm, only to have a hand wrapped around his throat stop him in his tracks, and reach for the hand holding him afloat, struggling to pry it away, desperately trying to find purchase on the ground with his feet, but barely getting anywhere. 

“You rendered me powerless before killing me in the most excruciating method you could, So I’m going to do the same in return. Quid pro Quo, if you will. And I’m going to make it as agonizing as I can for everything you have done to Michael, to Heaven, To me and my reputation,”

_ “I will make you pay, Castiel” _

An angel blade plunged into Raphael’s side, and she winced, and gritted her teeth as Claire twisted the knife deeper into Raphael’s meat suit. However, when she gathered herself through the pain, she ejected the blade at a violent speed, and while slowly clenching her free hand into a fist, the two angels watched Claire clutch at her throat and chest, wincing. She held her forehead in one hand, and applied light pressure to her chest as she collapsed to her knees, groaning from the pain and effort just to keep breathing.

“Stage 4 oesophagus cancer. Should keep her out of the way while I enjoy tearing you apart.” Raphael smiled coldly, an archangel blade slipping into her hand, as she trailed it down Castiel’s body, wondering where to start with first. She pulled the blade back, watching Castiel tense and struggling against the absolute hand of the Archangel, only for white light to flood from a mouth opened in a desperate scream of pain. 

The grip on Castiel’s throat loosened, and he dropped to the floor, quickly followed by Raphael’s lifeless body. He panted, catching his breath, looking at Claire struggling to breath and swallow, and wondered how on  _ earth _ was he going to fix-

“It’s rude to take off when Someone’s trying to help you, Cassie.”

  
  



	8. Wonderful Sammie

“Okay, I understand logically that you- you made it out alive because almost everyone in the empty did, but My goodness, you’re alive!” Sam smiled and wrapped his arms around the Archangel, holding him slightly off the ground in a tight grip. Gabriel seemed overjoyed to be held and gave Sam a hug in return, chuckling over the absurdity of their situation.

“You can never keep me down for long!” He gave his award-winning smile and Sam dropped the trickster, letting Cas walk up to him, and smile. Claire shoved past her dad with a smirk at his frown at her behavior, and turned to Gabriel.

“I don’t remember thanking you for healing my ass, so...thanks” She smiled awkwardly, and retreated back to her girlfriend’s side

“And I don’t remember thanking you for...saving my ass...so thank you, Gabriel.”

Dean butted in, leaning over Castiel’s shoulder with a shit-eating smirk

“Yeah, thanks for saving his ass gabriel.”

Gabriel looked between the two, smirked, then burst out laughing

“You two finally fucked! How is being a top, Cassie? I wouldn’t know-”

“Why do you think  _ I’m  _ the bottom!?” Dean asked, his grip on Cas tightening.

“Have you seen you, Dean-O? You’re a sub through and through-”

“I think we’re getting off track. How did you know to be in the very church Raphael, Castiel, and Claire were at the precise moment you were needed?” Uriel asked, hands held behind his back, looking down at Gabriel because of the vessel height difference.

“Once I realised it was Raphael causing the thunder storms, I knew I’d have to stop him before they got too bad. I might not be a saint-”

Kaia snorted, numerous examples of Gabriel being a saint coming to mind. Not in the way Gabriel was implying, but buildings named after St Gabriel

“But you guys make such great things! Porn,” Dean nodded in agreement. “Booze,” Balthazar and Crowley nodded in agreement, giving each other ridiculous winks from across the group. “Women!” Claire and Kaia looked at each other and nodded in agreement, giggling to each other, Kaia resting her forehead on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Hedonism, basically? Pleasures of the flesh?” Uriel defined, looking at Gabriel with disdain written across his solemn face.

“Yes, sorry the stick up your ass stops you from seeing how much fun getting drunk and sex can be. Maybe you should get Balthazar to show you, I hear he’s a proper party animal.” Gabriel winked at Balthazar, and Balthazar blew a mocking kiss back at him. 

Uriel sighed, already fed up with the Archangel, and looked off to the side, examining the humans passing by around them with lazer focus.

“Look, all the bastards who’ve been killed predominately by you guys are back, and safety comes in numbers. There are numerous angels who feel I screwed them over, Demons and Gods I betrayed, lied to, Killed, Asmodeus-” He shivered ever so slightly at the mention of the demon prince.

“You want to become one of the stray’s we’re slowly gathering?” Sam asked, a soft laugh behind his question, which Gabriel reluctantly nodded as an affirmative. 

“Dealing with Both Michaels and Lucifer will be easier with Gabriel, he gave us The key to opening The Cage, and he has helped us a lot, probably more than he should have.” Sam began, trying to cover all the good points. 

“Mystery Spot, Snake in the pipes with Rowena in the library, TV-world, and I’m not forgetting all the gay jokes, am I?” Dean asked, ready to fight his point. 

“You don’t even remember Mystery Spot, Dean! I do, and I say regardless, We should let him join us”

“Yeah, doesn’t seem like a bad dude.” Claire voiced, giving Dean a look that said ‘ _ you’re being a dick and you know it, just let the dude join us. _ ”

Dean groaned, and looked around, seeing agreement with Sam and Claire everywhere he looked, except Uriel who - for some reason - was watching humans pass by and not really paying attention. 

“Why am I the only one against the trickster joining us?”

“Because you were always the spoilsport.” Crowley provided, smiling innocently

“Dick-”

They were cut off by the cough of someone clearing their throat a few meters away from them. When the group’s attention shifted, they were greeted by a short, smiling figure dressed in a Weiner Hut uniform.

“Samandriel?” Castiel choked out, looking like he’d seen a ghost. 

“The Winchester Troop. It’s been a while.” A small smle found its way onto his lips, as he looked over the 9 humans and beings gathered here, his smile only dimming when he looked at Castiel, and Crowley, and a look of confusion settling on his face when he turned to Dean. 

“Samandriel! Brother, it is good to see you again!” Uriel called out, walking towards the smaller male and wrapping him in a tight embrace, ‘Alfie’ returning the hug hesitantly.

~~~~~~

“Why did you come to speak to us?” Castiel asked, sat on a park bench, Samandriel sat beside him, watching human children run around, playing made-up games. The rest of the group were making the trip back, and the two angels were left in Atlantic City, to talk. 

“A very warm welcome you give old acquaintances, Castiel.”

“I killed you, you shouldn’t be this civil with me!” Castiel turned to look at Samandriel, trying to find that bud of resentment that he  _ knew  _ must be in there. 

“You do not get to decide how I live. Nor does Heaven, or God now that he is powerless, and the new one is hands off. I can do what I please, Experience what I want, interact with who I want. “ He trailed off for a second, watching a young girl fly down the slide with a wide smile on her dark face.

“I wanted to come and ask you why you killed me.”

Castiel knew this was coming the moment he saw Samandriel’s grace dim slightly when looking at him. 

“Naomi, she…” He looked off into space, remembering the blood on his hands, the high-pitched screaming of her drill, the constant state of being sick from anxiety and hating everything he did once he realised what was happening.

“She changed me, used me. She’d alter my grace so I’d do whatever she asked and forget our time together. She- She said you were compro- compromised. That I- I needed to...to kill you. I didnt- I didn’t even realise it...it wasn’t my idea unt-until she ordered me to… me to kill Dean to take the- take the Angel Tablet.” The angel blade sunk into the red and white uniform, the vessel’s flesh and the angel’s grace, all three layers visible to the angel’s eye. The thousands of Deans he killed while struggling to bear the words of returned affections, desperation, anger and hatred in his slowly torn apart grace. The blood, all the blood he spilled whether it truly affected someone beyond him or not.The drill getting closer and closer _and_ _closer-_

“Castiel, calm down. I believe you are...having a memory-induced breakdown. What do humans call it? All is forgiven and forgotten from your end. If I should blame anyone for my end, it will be Naomi.”

_ The angel with a crack in his chassis _

“Let’s get you back to the bunker. There is no ill will between us any longer, but I will not condone that demon should he try to mess with me again. And what’s going on with your Winchester? He looks like Death did during the apocalypse soul wise, but he still has his righteous soul. It’s a strange predicament you have gotten yourself into, brother.” ‘Alfie’ laughed softly, Gently keeping Castiel from sitting back down, and with a soft grip on his forearm, flew them both to the entrance of the Bunker, (the directions given to them by Sam), and knocked politely, waiting to be let in like the old myths of a vampire.

The bass of the voices inside could be heard faintly, and so could the metallic thuds of feet going up the stairs, and soon Samandriel and Castiel were faced with Claire grinning like a madman, and Balthazar cursing her out quite colourfully from the ground floor. Claire burst into giggles as she stepped out of the way for them to enter, not paying attention to them specifically.

“Cas, Alfie. Good to see the both of you...You alright, Cas?” Dean asked, watching how Samandriel tightened his grip, and Cas seemed unresponsive, as if he couldn’t hear his lover’s call.

“He is feeling a tad unwell. Might I ask where his bedroom is?

“I’ll take him, Alfie. Thanks for getting him here.” Dean wrapped an arm around Trench Coat-covered shoulders and smiled at the small angel, before walking off down the corridors, in a bittersweet echo of their last time weaving through corridors together with one less able than the other. Cas’ distant face numbed any humour Dean found in not being chased by Billie this time around.

Alfie looked around the room, and glared at Crowley, everyone else backing up slowly, any jovial atmosphere they had created before gone. 

“You’re looking as wonderful as ever, Sammie”

“You’re looking as rotten as ever, Demon.”

“Alright, Break it up, guys” Sam walked between them, looking part fed up, part like he might piss himself from being between a demon and an angel. 

“He’s the reason I’m dead. Him and his daedalian torture methods.” Alfie looked rightfully wrathful and Crowley looked underwhelmed and amused. 

“He is right, Crowley. If he hadn’t been ‘compromised’,” Sam added visual quotation marks, which seemed to ease Samandriel a slight bit, “Because of your torture, he wouldn’t have been killed.” 

“How very biased of you, Moose.” Crowley didn’t look offended, he looked like he was about to burst his side in a fit of laughter. 

“You both don’t seem to like each other, so if you’re going to stick around and help clear up this global mess with us, Alfie, let's keep the two of you away from each other, for all our sakes.”

~~~~

Dean set Castiel on his bed, and held his face in his hands, looking into each of his eyes, and not getting anything beyond a few blinks and a very long stare. A freakishly long stare. But his hands were shaking and he was pliant to Dean laying him down and lifting him back up agan. 

Dean moved to take off his trench coat, so he could dress him into something alike pajamas so he could ‘sleep’, only for Cas to suddenly mutter,

“There were hundreds…”

“...Of what?”

“You.”

Totally not weird or creepy. Not at all. What on earth was he on about.

“Time would stop while I was there, like nothing even happened there.”

O...kay? Facts, but nothing explicitly saying when or what this was about.

“She would...You would beg, plead with me to not kill you.” 

Wait,  _ what? _

“It was so hard, the first couple hundred. You would scream, or sob, or even beg. I tried to stop it, to end it prematurely however I could, but they always stopped me, they always made me kill you. One even tried to confess their love for me and use it as a weapon, as a bargaining chip.”

Dean was stunned, he just sat there, beside Cas, hands on his coat, eyes wide, while Castiel was lost in the memory of...killing him.

“It was harder to hurt the real you, but my body did all the work, no matter how hard I fought…”

Dean let go of the coat, and wrapped Castiel in an awkward hug, pulling him into his chest, head over his heart as he explained what happened. 

“You meant to say something else that night, I could feel it. I just never knew what”

“Cas,” The angel tensed at his name, an indication he was listening after this whole time.

“Cas, I...thanks for not killing me when it mattered. I, uh...I appreciate it.”

“The Fake Dean’s never begged me to stop, because it wasn’t me. Only you could do that.” Castiel pulled his head away, and looked Dean in the eyes. He was still shaking ever so slightly, but his eyes were filled with something warm and expansive. 

Dean lifted his hand, and ran it through Cas’ sex hair of a mop atop his head, and grinned at his lover, who gently cradled Dean’s face in his quivering hands, stilling them with something to lean against, and pulled him in for a delicate kiss, the two forgetting about the rest of the pile of problems waiting for them outside this room as they fell into a soft rhythm, a give and take while kissing each other tenderly.


	9. Deadly Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rape discussed, though nothing with the main characters or even happening in the fic

“So get this, serial rapist claims not guilty because he’s straight, not gay; man stealing from the homeless claims he just had the urge; man killed for using wife’s phone charger; with all the details provided, I think we’re dealing with something big here.” 

Dean nodded in agreement to Sam’s statement, and the two human girls just frowned, trying to think of what it could be.

“Sounds demonic when you look at it too. Disorientation of the assailant, cattle mutilation reports a few days prior to the first rape, The witness reports claim the thief smelt like rotten eggs, so probably sulphur.” Sam added, looking at the articles, trying to scan it for clues.

“The headlines don’t sound like regular demonic activity, but the omens sure as hell do.” Gabriel commented, reading through a sweets-treats magazine.

“Kinda reminds me of that family that died from starvation with a fully-stocked fridge, or the lady who killed another woman for her heels.” Dean gave Sam a ‘ _ what do you think _ ’ look, and Sam looked like it finally hit him. 

“Lust, greed, wrath.”

“You think we’re dealing with the Seven Deadly Vices?” Castiel inquired, sipping on a cup of warm tea as they discussed this.

“We dealt with them a long while ago, Right after the gate to Hell opened, We had some help, but now I think it could be much easier than before. We have devil’s trap bullets, angel blades, and are generally better at fighting, as well as having a big group of fighters.” Sam looked at the reports once more, trying to find out where the events happened. 

“Oh, Alfie, darling, please wear something else, I’m going to die of embarrassment if you keep wearing that uniform everywhere.” Balthazar practically begged, and Sam provided the confused angel with some of his smaller clothes - a worn band t-shirt that was once Dean’s, and a pair of worn light denim jeans that he complained were very restricting when it came to flexibility, but receded with his protests once he got used to the comfortable fabrics. 

“Park City, Utah. It’s a 12 hour drive from here.” Sam stated after a few minutes. The angels - sans Castiel, used to cars by now, and Samandriel, unknowing of how bad a car can be with wings - groaned, and protested using a car, only to be shut down by Crowley teasing them about being wusses. That shut them up quite effectively.

~~~~~

After a torturous 12 hours in the car with 5 people in each vehicle, the group stumbled out and into a diner, though most of them didn’t eat anything, though most had a drink of some kind. 

“Alright, Dean, Cas and I can go in as FBI, And we can possibly get a pair in as well pretending to be PIs on the Wrath murder, hired by one of the husband’s relatives.”

“I’m sure Claire and I would make a wonderful team together, what do you think, sweetheart?”

“Call me sweetheart again and I'll slit your throat.” Claire smiled brightly at Crowley

“See? Swell.”

“Alright. Kaia, could you go book us…” Sam looked at the group, and blinked a few times at the sheer size of it. It had grown since he last checked.

“A room for the humans and a room for those who don’t need to sleep?”

“But won’t you and Dean be sharing a bed then.” 

Both brothers made a face before laughing, assuring them it was fine, and that they had done it a few times before then, and only complained about minor things like Dean stealing the blankets and Sam taking up all the space.

“Alright. I’ll head to a motel after this.” Kaia took a big bite of her pancakes to emphasise her point.

“Maybe you guys,” Sam pointed to Uriel, Balthazar, Samandriel, and Gabe, “Could look around local watering holes and restaurants for the sins - last time they all stayed in a Bar apparently” The angels nodded, and after everyone finished their drink or food, they separated to complete their designated task. 

~~~~~

“Why are FBI agents interested in a few crimes in Utah? And what’s with the three agents?” The elder cop asked, practically glaring at the group.

“We’re training him,” ‘Agent Dean May’ supplied, turning to ‘Agent Cas Mitchell’ with a small smile

“And these murders line up with a trend happening further east, it could be a mass event if we don't crack down on it.” ‘Agent Sam Deacon’ lied smoothly, easing the cop’s suspicion with practiced skill.

“...Alrighty, then. It’s common for a closeted queer man to rape another man then claim innocence because he’s straight, but it’s never happened at this level before, according to him he managed to get around 4 people in one night, and this went on for 3 days before we caught him. The thief also claimed innocence despite hundreds of people seeing him, and the wife just said she was angry and left it at that. It’s been a mess here, if I’m honest.”

The fake agents nodded their heads in understanding, and began asking questions about the people, interspersed between the usual questions the FBI would ask about upbringing, job, mental health, the like. 

“Thank you for your time.” Sam nodded his head once more, before the group left the station. They had gotten nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nul.

“Well that was fun.” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Should we head back to the Motel?” Sam asked, desperately wanting to get out of his formal monkey suit as soon as possible, tugging at his tie to loosen it slightly. 

“Good idea, Rapunzel.” Dean smirked at Sam’s annoying grin and walked off to the drivers side of the Impala, and slid in.

~~~~

The angels spit up over the main street, peeking into bars, chatting around depending on their ability to interact with humans, and having a drink or two between lines of questioning. It was only when they all found themselves at the same bar, that they sat down and had themselves a drink served by a guy with long brown hair falling just below his ears, like Sam’s once did.

“Alright, I found a few people who watched that guy steal from the homeless, and they all said he seemed eerily quiet and unresponsive to them, as well as smelling horrid - some identified it as sulphur, but they looked like school kids who might have done an experiment with it one or twice.” Gabriel began, starting to lay out some evidence for the three assailants.

“I tracked down a trail of demonic energy to this bar, I’m pretty sure one or more of them are...here.” Samandriel looked around, and the bar was empty (though it was middle of the day) excluding three patrons and the server, all who looked at them with black eyes and grim demonic faces behind their meat-suits.

“They found us.” Uriel sighed, standing up and whipping out his angel blade with ease.

The rest of the angels followed suit, until one of the demons tackled Balthazar onto the table they were sat at, and it collapsed beneath the two of them. The woman atop him wore only brand clothing, and was smashing his face in with a louis Vuitton bag. 

“Deep inside I can feel that coil of greed wrapped around your...grace, pretty angel.” She sneered at the mere mention of the word ‘grace’, and began tearing away at Balthazar’s vessel, cawing into flesh and tearing it away. 

“You crave affluence and lavish living, not this life of danger and stress-”

Greed was ran through with an angel blade through the abdomen, and collapsed atop the bleeding angel. He was unlikely to die, but it wouldn’t be comfortable to have this many injuries.

Uriel grappled with the bartender, the sick face of Wrath grinning from beneath the vessel, who was sneering on the outside. 

“All those grudges you hold are going to damn you, Chicken” The demon snickered, before flicking his hair out of his face, and bringing an angel blade down onto Uriel, which he easily avoided, glaring at the demon. He held his hand up, and smiled proudly as white light surrounded Wrath and burned him out of his vessel, leaving him a bloody, red mess of a body on the floor. 

Samandriel was panting heavily, despite not really needing to, just able to keep up with Envy, who just kept taunting him, casually mentioning how weak he was compared to his fellow angels, how lacking of true free will he was, It was frustrating along side the demon’s capability despite using a balding 67 year old with white hair. Samandriel kept throwing out attack after attack, only to be blocked or dodged.

Samandriel focused on the demon, before smiling suddenly, just as flames engulfed Envy, slowly burning away at the demon trapped inside the vessel, and the vessel itself. It was a shame to have to hurt a human, but it was much easier to deal with the demon as fast as possible to remove any possibility of further casualties.

Gabriel and a slightly overweight woman rolled about on the floor, both making snarky or sexual remarks about rolling about, trying to kill each other. One would try to stab the other in the face, the other in the side. It was almost entertaining, to a certain degree. 

“Don’t you want to have some chocolate?” Teased the vice, Gluttony wrapping their pudgy fingers around Gabriel’s throat, squeezing and clawing where she could. 

Gabe lifted one of his free hands and pressed it to the demon’s forehead, and exorcised it with a simple thought, watching the demon’s eyes light up before the body slumped atop him.

He rolled the heavy body off him, and brushed himself down, looking at the others who were finishing up their fights, and smiled. They did quite well, if he did say so himself. 

~~~~~

“Why do our rooms feel unsafe?” Castiel asked as they stood outside the two rooms Kaia had rented, before running off to find Claire presumably. Sam and Dean shrugged, before Kicking down both the doors, Sam and Cas rushing through one and Dean rushing through another.

Sam and Cas faced Pride and Sloth, both waiting eagerly for their prey to fall into the web, and Dean was faced with Lust, all confused as to why that sin in particular was waiting from all 7 that could. 

Pride practically growled at Sam, then smiled, the businesswoman he was inhabiting smiling sharply at him. 

“Remember last time? I didn’t get to feel the life fade from you as I strangled every breath from you. And, you know me, I can't be shown up like that by The Boy King, that would be very...unbecoming of me.”

“Can it with the villain monologue, Ego” Sam pulled out his angel blade, and darted towards the demon, who was about to throw Sam into the wall, only for him to reach the demon first, and stab him through the ribcage and directly into his heart. 

Cas glared at Sloth, who just smiled at him, and he could feel the pull of laziness tug at him, the cloud over his mind that came when he felt at his most low guiding him to drop his blade and just lay down on the bed not even a meter or two away, but looking at Sam who was just starting to run at Hubris and felt an urge of determination shoot through him, directing him towards Sloth, and his blade through the demon’s skull, orange flashing under the skin as the pale blonde man slumped, still held up by the blade through him.

The door locked behind Dean, and the man with dark hair, blue eyes and pale lips stood up, and walked towards him, smiling coquettishly as he grabbed Dean’s tie from his monkey suit, and threw him onto the bed, pulling a blade from one of the bags. Dean stumbled and fell onto the bed, turning over onto his back and watching the movement of the vice, unable to move or fight the thrall the sin had on him. 

“Don’t I look just like your boyfriend? Bet I do. y’know...I remember that bathtub full of holy water quite well, Winchester, and I don't forget very easily.” He knelt over Dean, licking his lips lasciviously, watching the man beneath him gulp, He lifted the angel blade above his head, ready to bring it down on the hunter, only for a hand to frantically push him away, and kill him in the same movement. The demon shone a bright orange under his skin, before staying completely still on the floor.

Dean panted, veins full of adrenaline and a heart that beat deafeningly in his ears. His trousers were tented, and his hands were flung out to the side, but none of that registered above:

_ ‘I just killed a demon with a mere touch’. _

His whole body shook with the revelation, and he didn’t even register the frantic knocking at the door, or the very same door swinging wide open.

Sam and Cas rushed in to find the demon - looking vaguely like Cas - dead on the floor with no visible wounds or injuries, and Dean trembling on the bed taking unsteady breaths in. 

Cas rushed to his side, checking his face over to see if he was injured in any way. Other than his clammy, sweat-covered skin, he was unharmed, beyond a stretched tie and stretched trousers around the crotch. 

“I think it was Lust.” Cas observed, looking at Sam lifting the body up so they could hide it later. 

“Yeah, makes sense. It’s who we dealt with last time, I think they were holding a grudge against us.” Sam admitted, locking next door and the room they were in currently so no one wandered into the blood bath

“There is no injury on either of them, despite Dean being in shock and the demon being dead”

“I killed ‘im with my hand…” Dean spoke slowly, as if he couldn’t believe the words.

“I just pushed him off me and he started glowing like they do when they die.” Dean began to babble, looking at the body slumped in a chair instead of on the floor, without a single scratch but still dead.

“Calm down, Dean. It’s okay.” Cas went to wrap his arm around Dean, and Dean tensed, bringing his hands into himself, and pressing them flat on his chest, so he wouldn’t touch Cas by accident as he was wrapped in his warm arms. 


	10. Candies & Liquorice

Cas sat in his old room, looking at his few remaining clothes - a few button ups from when he was just barely had grace left, a few slacks, jeans, a pair of shorts with ‘snacc’ in sequins on the back he thinks he got from Dean at some point, though he has no clue where Dean got them, and a thicker trench coat than his preferred item of clothing -, trying to decide what would be the best for a date.

Vaguely, he wondered what it would be like to have Jack help him, because he knew Balthazar and Claire would tease him over his concern about getting it just right, but Jack would understand because he had the same kind of mentality over these things.

“What do you think Jack? Dean won’t go for anything higher class than an olive garden, but I still want to look...good for him. A button up shirt is a necessity for a date.” He muttered absently, as he often did when talking with Jack, remembering when he was human and Dean had coached him on date-wear. It was a grey long-sleeve shirt that he slid on, doing up all the buttons but the top two, less than what Dean said was suitable, but was more comfortable than three. 

“But would jeans go better with it or slacks? Slacks would make it more formal than Jeans, but would it look nice enough with Jeans?” He thought about what Jack would say if he was still permanently residing in the bunker ‘ _ Jeans, Dean will appreciate the casual-ness’ _

Castiel nodded to himself and reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of faded blue jeans, and a brown belt to hold them up. It looked nice enough, with his usual shoes on as well, so he threw on his trench coat, slid his wallet - filled mostly with fake ID’s and a debit card Dean and Sam transferred money to from the ‘infinity Card’ Charlie made for them - and phone before darting out the door with a broad smile on his face from sheer excitement.

He practically ran out the room, and didn’t hear the faint chuckle from behind him, or the strong presence in the room, proud of his dads for finally taking this next step.

~~~~~

Dean stood in his room, Sam making sex jokes behind him as they both looked at dean’s outfit and hair for tonight. A pale blue button up with the sleeves rolled up a sexy amount, not too much, not a single turn, just right. ‘ _ Like Goldilocks’ _ Sam had commented with a smirk, earning a brotherly punch. Dark navy slacks and black boots finished the outfit, with his hair pomaded to perfection, which earned him a few remarks about being a hypocrite over hair care.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Dean asked, looking at his outfit with a critical eye, trying to find anything that wasn’t perfect. Sam just smiled, patted his brother on the shoulder, unnoticing of his slight flinch, pulled him in for a side hug, and muttered

“Almost as good as I looked on my first date with Eileen.”

“You looked like a nerd on your first date with Eileen, you Bitch”

“Jerk.” Sam rolled his eyes, slapping his brother’s back before sliding the single red rose over to him.

Dean picked it up, and rolled it between his fingers, remembering the little pricks he got trying to de-thorn it for Cas. He wouldn’t have minded if Dean gave him a dirty dandelion, but Dean had wanted to make it perfect for him, and he knew Roses were the flower to give someone you really loved. He remembered seeing roses, orchids and sunflowers on the kitchen table when he was young because John would bring home a bouquet of flowers every fortnight on the Friday when Mary was still alive and he was barely a kid, practically still a toddler. He knew this was a romantic gesture he was going to give Cas, and only felt a flutter of anticipation in his gut.

“Dad used to get mum bouquets of roses every now and then.” Dean muttered, looking at how the petals spread out dramatically, and showed off the intricate spiral of overlapped scarlet petal layers. 

“He really loved her.” Sam muttered, handing Dean his wallet, phone, and a few blades to hide in his boots and a switchblade for his pocket. Never knew what might happen.

“Now when are you coming back because I’ll have everyone out of the bunker by then and a few hours after. We’re going drinking at a bar a town over.” Dean smiled in appreciation, feeling awkward about talking about his plans with his brother, but he didn’t want to be interrupted or he might chicken out. 

“About 10 probably? He had this date fake-out while human, and I want to top it as much as I can.” Dean admitted, remembering how he felt this ache twist in his heart, refusing to admit it felt the same, but much stronger than what he felt when he asked Cas to remove his existence from Lisa and Ben’s memories. That had felt like being pricked on a thorn, Cas going on his first date had felt like shattering all the bones in his leg.

“This will be his first date then, and It’ll be his best one.” Sam smiled

“Thanks Sammy...This, uh...This means a lot to me.” He muttered, quiet enough he wondered if Sam even heard it, before turning to the door and walking out before he could figure out if Sam did hear it or not. Better to not know.

‘ _ To my date’ _ He thought with determination, excited at the prospect of taking Cas to dinner and a movie.

~~~~

“For-” Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, looking sheepish as he held the red rose out to Cas,

“For you. I, uh...I went and got one for you, specifically. I debated with the idea of a blue rose, because it would look a lot like your eyes, but red is a classic love symbol so I thought-”

“I love it.” Ca took it with a smile and brought it to his nose to smell it, cutting off dean’s rambling with ease. A few of the beings and humans snickered around the library, where the two had planned to be before heading for their date, and neither Cas nor Dean paid it any heed, and just continued to stare at each other. 

“Please stop eye fucking and let me drink my milkshake in peace.” Gabriel groaned, taking a dainty sip from a curly straw plunging into a rich chocolate milkshake piled high with at least 2 inches of whipped cream and a small brownie shoved into the swirl atop the drink. Claire and Kaia were sharing one opposite where Gabriel sat and were snickering at his comment, then kissed each other softly before continuing to enjoy their drinks.

“Yeah, get going love birds and don't break the walls when you get back, I quite like this bunker of yours.” Crowley teased, hands in his pockets as he looked at the now shy couple.

“We won’t.” Dean assured them sarcastically, before hesitantly propping his elbow out for Cas to take like a proper gentleman, an excited, soft smile on his blushing face. Cas looked at the rose in his hand, and watched it disappear, he turned to take Dean’s outstretched arm.

“I’ve left it in my room so I won't damage or lose it while we’re out.” Cas assured Dean, cleaning the crestfallen look from his face and replacing it with a quiet nod of acceptance.

~~~~~~

“Aren’t you going to ask me where we’re going for our date?” Dean asked, taking a sharp left off the main street, turning to look at his boyfriend.

“I trust your judgement on dates and I trust your desire to provide me with a memorable experience.” Cas turned to the love-struck face of his boyfriend and smiled brightly, turning to the tape player, and skipping the next few songs on the mixtape, until he came across the perfect song.  _ ‘Whole Lotta Love’ _ by Led Zeppelin began to strum its way out into the car, and Dean’s face curved into a broad grin, as he sang along to Robert Plant’s simple but effective lyrics, looking at Cas out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

When they finally reached the diner Dean had decided to take them, Cas raised his eyebrow to his boyfriend, trying to hide an affectionate smile that would have sunk into his face otherwise; it always found its way onto his face eventually. The two slid out the car, and walked into the diner, arm in arm, already chatting about the history of pie.

~~~~~

Walking through Lebanon park, with stomachs full of burgers, pie and milkshakes, Cas turned to Dean and asked suddenly, disturbing the silence.

“If you could have any other job, what would it be?”

Dean smiled when he registered the question, and thought about it for a few seconds, trading ideas around in his head, until-

“Mechanic. Repairing old cars and getting paid for it would be a dream. What about you, Cas? What would your star job be?”

“I would quite enjoy being an apiculturist, and I’ve already had practice at it too.”

A fond smile at the memory surfaced, and Dean unconsciously mirrored the smile, as he clarified,

“Beekeeper, right?” Cas nodded. “Yeah, that’s the perfect job for you.”

Neither noticed when their hands intertwined between them, nor when the space between them closed, all they noticed was each other, and the minor details they wanted to commit to memory about the one they loved.

~~~~

“Two tickets to Spider-Man please.” Dean pulled out his wallet and pulled out a $20, which he slid to the ticket seller, turning to Cas who had a confused frown on his face, not one of displeasure, but the one where he’s trying to work something out. 

“This man is a spider too?” Cas asked, confused by the concept.

“Kinda, he’s part spider, has the DNA but not the...freaky arms.”

The seller slid two tickets over in exchange and directed them into the Cinema, and Dean dragged Cas past the concessions stand, smirking without paying attention to Cas’ eyes on his curled lips. 

Dean led him to his seat like an excited child showing his friend his favourite toy, and reached under his shirt, and pulled out a bag of generic candies and a bag of liquorice specifically separated as a habit formed while Bobby was alive and kicking, and ready to kick Sam and Dean’s ass if they argued too much.

Cas smiled, chuckling softly, before taking a bite of one of the sweets, and kissing Dean chastely and running his deft hands through his spikey, firm hair. He was a keeper, for sure.

~~~~

When they returned to the bunker, debating over the theme of the film as they descended the steps and walked down the corridor to their rooms, Cas waited outside Dean’s room, ready to go back to his room for the night. 

“It’s been a wonderful evening, Dean. Thankyou for the date. The small smile was enough to send lightning through the hunter’s chest.

“I, uh...I was wondering if you’d, uh…” Dean trailed off, unsure how to ask. Cas simply tilted his head to the side to indicate he was listening.

“Would you like to...to stay with me tonight?” Dean asked, hand on the back of his neck, eyes looking away from Cas and a furious blush blooming on his cheeks. Cas merely smiled, pressed a kiss to dean’s willing lips and let him into his room, though they had taken steps to make it more like their room - most of Cas’ clothes had been moved in and most of his decorations too. The rose from earlier was sitting in a glass of water on the bedside table, relaxing and reminding Dean of his goal for tonight.

Dean pulled the Trench coat reverently off Cas’ shoulders, kissing where the neck met the jaw, and with his tender actions, leaving a faint pink love bite on his lover’s neck. Cas sighed contentedly, leaning his head to the side so Dean had more room to continue this wonderful action further down his neck. 

Slowly, Dean’s hands crept around to Cas’ front and began to unbutton his shirt, still leaving hickeys wherever his mouth trailed. Cas realised quickly what Dean’s intentions were, and turned to look him in the eye, examining his every move. 

“Are you sure, Dean? I don't want to rush you-”

“I...I’m sure Cas. I want to be this close with you.” He admitted, going back to working Cas’ shirt open, a bit less gentle than before, gently grinding against Cas’ ass in a slow, rhythmic movement that Cas copied in front of him. Pulling the shirt off his angel’s lean shoulders was a joy Dean would never pass up, he decided, once seeing how strong they were, and how handsome Cas’ top half was.

The slightly smaller male turned around, and pulled off Dean's shirt with ease, and what Dean assumed was a small portion of grace because buttoned shirts did not come off like that and none of the buttons popped off either.  _ He must be just as eager as I am. Calm down, tiger! _ Cas dove into Dean’s mouth and hastily, the two of them deepened the kiss, tasting every part of their partner they could, Castiel twisting the positions and pushing Dean onto his bed, just like he did after Dean confessed, and lay his hand on his belt once more - a final way to back out of this with no questions asked. Dean lay his hand atop Castiel’s and helped him undo his belt while laying down still, reclaiming his Angel’s mouth in a fiery kiss that left him gasping hungrily for air, and for more of Cas. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been on a date so I tried not to go into too much detail on the...details. Feel free to fill it with tooth rotting fluff or mischievous flirting, or a mix. And I don't write smut, I am sorry to say.


	11. Salt N' Burn

When Dean awoke, he was greeted with Cas curled around him, watching him with a look that held such a profound love, it made something in Dean's gut twist joyfully. His bright blue eyes followed the hunter's lips as he wetted them, both remembering the last night with crystal clarity. 

Dean's eyes trailed to where his hands lay on Cas, and he tensed up slightly, remembering the Amber glow under the skin of Lust that appeared with a single touch. He could practically see that happening to Cas - grace suddenly pouring from lips parted in agony and eyes wide with betrayal. And all that would remain would be a Limp, cold, lifeless body of Castiel and Jimmy Novak - and as much as he knew that he had no control of it, the blame would fall solely on his shoulders. 

"Dean, I noticed this yesterday too, are you alright? You tense when you come into physical contact with others." Cas' loving eyes were now pregnant with concern, and Dean wanted to explain 'Hey Cas, I'm worried I'm going to kill you with a touch on accident, and it's terrifying because I've finally got this after years of thinking you didn't love me and that you couldn't even feel love that way!' but he wasn't entirely sure how on earth that would come out after he had put his hands all over his boyfriend the former night. 

"You know, when you direct thoughts to me, especially at such a close proximity, it counts as a prayer." Cas began, watching for the gut reaction of panic to surge up to the surface, and it did indeed show itself. 

"If you're truly concerned about hurting others in an accident, perhaps we could get you some gloves that would stifle the effect as a precaution." 

"You're gonna Elsa me? What next, I'm gonna become the Queen of Arendelle?" 

Cas frowned, seeing the reference and how it connected to his idea, thanks to Metatron's speed lesson on culture and literature, but he wasn't entirely sure why Dean seemed unsure of the idea or why he was deflecting. 

“That is not what I intended to suggest. I merely meant to imply that if you are worried and don’t think you can learn to control your abilities and continue to feel uneasy around others due to this then you could do something about it.” Cas tightened his loose embrace on his boyfriend, and tucked his head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the vague smell of motor oil, leather and pie that adhered to Dean regardless of whether he wore clothes or not.

Dean sighed, resting his head lightly atop Cas’, and slowly putting his hand down on Cas’ back, drawing the hexagram that was engraved onto every other door in this bunker faintly on Castiel’s back. 

“You’re right, I’m overreacting. We’ll look for some more hunts and I’ll try and get some practice in with it.” Dean nodded to himself, solidifying his decision. 

“But later. Now, I want to relax with you.” He smiled as he wrapped his other arm around Cas, keeping his mind on the pleasant ache in his arms, wrists and lower back and the memories associated with them, rather than anything that could potentially set off his powers until he knew he was in control.

~~~~

It was a locked room murder. Room firmly locked from the inside, no entry points, and no murder weapon, but the victim - a man in his late 40’s - had his throat slit and his corpse desecrated, and in blood, some freaky symbols were written on the wall. 

**Shi Sarraqum**

Sam looked at all the details of this case, and decided this looked like a salt and burn which was perfect to get newer hunters into the swing of things. Maybe, just maybe…

“Kaia,” The girl in question brought her head up from a book about vampires and mating, “How would you like to go on a salt and burn with me? It looks simple enough from here - The man was in a locked room when killed, and no murder weapon was found, but an ancient language , i’m willing to bet, was, which will probably lead us to the ghost, because this looks like either an ancient Asian writing or scribbles…”

"uh, sure." She smiled nervously, and walked up to beside Sam, looking at his screen. 

"When do we leave?" 

"In 15 if you can get yourself together by then. Pack for two days, this should be a good step into hunting." 

Kaia nodded, darting off to her and Claire's joint room to pack and bid her lover adieu. 

~~~~~

Sitting in Baby, Sam driving and Kaia shotgun, the two sat mostly in silence, excluding the quiet sound of 'Girl in Red' - Something Kaia insisted playing as background noise - echoing through the stifling air of the Impala. Each tried to start up a conversation, but fell short of starting it. 

"How's Jack?" 

Sam tensed slightly, working through how to explain he was in the front seat with them, the back seat, back in the bunker, and where they were headed all at once, as well as everywhere else, and just decided on:

"He's doing good, He, uh… He's God now, I guess.”

“God?” She muttered disbelievingly, “Like, bushy beard, white robe, figure of fatherhood... God? The one that, I don't know, flooded the world?” She sounded stressed at the idea that the man she knew who seemed so sweet became the being that was known to kill millions. 

“That God is...as good as dead, harmless.” Sam assured her, remembering how Chuck had looked, crawling on his hands and knees in a suit stained with blood from him and his brother and the very dirt he was on then, his weak voice calling out to them, begging them to kill him, to finish his story, to become who he wanted them to be for this all to reach it’s destined ending. 

“He’s gone…”

~~~~~~

The two of them slid into the crime scene suited up in form-fitting monkey suits without anyone questioning Kaia on her youthful appearance, luckily. The scene was messy - Blood coating walls and the carpet beneath them, and the famed ancient dialect painted onto the wall in the same blood everywhere else that Kaia had discovered when they were driving to be ancient Sumerian cuneiform. The body was torn and cut up and the lips were parted to reveal the tongue to have been cut out, and thrown across the room, - and Kaia gagged beside Sam, who was feeling a tad queasy beside her. 

“The door was locked from the inside, the neighbors reported hearing yelling from him, before he died, Like he was arguing with someone, but they’d have had to leave after killing him if that happened.” The sheriff explained, texting someone as she did, then putting her phone away seconds later.

“Have you noticed anything weird with the apartment? Cold spots? Weird smells?” Sam asked, looking around the room, in all the corners, while Kaia examined the body, and each cut in the cold flesh.

“It was quite cold when we got here, but we chalked it up to heating problems. Why, that one of the trends?” She asked, writing something down in a notebook, and passing it to one of the many police officers fluttering about. 

“Did he have any significant others? Friends? Anyone who might have had the intention to do this?” Kaia asked, looking at the blood dripping onto the carpet around the man’s body.

“He had a girlfriend, a pretty teacher, a couple months back who just disappeared, but no one has any grudges against him, he’s role-model material around here.”

The two fake FBI nodded, and thanked the sheriff for letting them look around, and politely asked for access to the files on the Teacher’s disappearance.

~~~~~~

“Okay, so get this: His girlfriend was a teacher at a nearby school for ancient languages and one of the languages they taught was Sumerian. She was particularly well known in the area for being able to understand and write in ancient languages too, not just teach them. Her speciality was translating-”

“Cuneiform tablets.” Kaia confirmed, showing her screen which was one of the translations Alesha Davis had done.

“Her boyfriend wasn’t happy she spent most of her time translating languages no one uses anymore and apparently the neighbors say they fought a lot, but it never went anywhere. But one hospital report to her name says she had injuries that coincide with domestic abuse, but excused them as a fall down the stairs. The night she disappeared, she and the Vic both drove off, but only He came back.”

“He killed her and she got her revenge?” Kaia clarified, confirmed by a nod from Sam, 

“Sounds like it.”

“Should we go...burn the body?” She asked, unsure if that was Vampires or Ghosts.

~~~~~

“I did not expect it to be so dramatic and anticlimactic at the same time.” Kaia admitted, watching the fire burn before them in the grave she and Sam had dug up

“I know what you mean, Alesha didn’t even put up a fight.-”

A cough interrupted his train of thought and it wasn’t from Kaia. He turned around and-

“Ruby.”

His voice was breathy, weak, and sounded like someone had run him through. Every atom in his body froze on the spot, and suddenly he could see the look in her eyes when she had finally got him to open Lucifer’s cage, the glowing of her skin when he held her as she died a minute later. The times they laughed, fucked like rabbits,  _ smiled  _ god-dammit and she had been faking the whole time, had betrayed him with an even wider smile than she ever gave him. 

“Glad to see you remember me, Sammy. It’s been a while.” Her smile was small, but her eyes took him in like she was a dehydrated hiker stumbling upon a fresh water spring. She spared Kaia a glance, before returning herself to Sam’s stiff form. 

“It hasn’t been long enough.” he spat, glaring at her, puffing his chest out and pulling out an angel blade he had tucked into his jacket. 

Ruby looked almost hurt by his reaction, but it was but a flicker until her face contorted into a hateful sneer.

“How was your date with Lucifer? Painful, I'll assume. Have some unforgettable memories with your beloved?”

“It was peachy, even better knowing your death helped start it all.” Unnaturally vehement of Sam to say, but it seemed something shifted when he looked at this demon who was his  _ wife  _ in some other universe where they have alpacas instead of something normal like a dog.

“You know Sam…” Ruby looked at him, smirking slightly, “No matter what you do, no matter where you end up or what you did, you’ll always end up at my feet, begging for me. Remember Jackson, Florida?” An eyebrow raised, and she parted her legs slightly, gesturing between them as if she were holding a head. “ You wanted me so bad you actually got down on your knees and-”

“Enough.” Sam’s voice commands, as he holds his hand out like it stops her. Not only does he not want to relive those times, but he doesn't want Kaia to hear. 

“I didn’t want you. I wanted your blood, just like now. But this time, I want it on the floor, not in me.” Sam stepped forwards to the demon, only to be shot back into a headstone that hits him awkwardly in his back. He groans as he lands awkwardly on his side, and  _ yep, something’s broken. _

“Remember what I said, Sam. I’ll be seeing you soon enough.” She smiles cruelly, before disappearing, as if she were never there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first piece of the major villains falls into place. Initially, I was going to make Ruby completely unsympathetic but after a quick read of her wiki page, I decided that she did kinda like Sam, and was hoping she would get a second chance, because all that time disconnected from Hell made her soft, but after Sam shows how much he hates her, she's hurt so she covers it up with anger. Both Sam and Dean have old 'flames' if you will that drag like, a santa's sack full of trauma with them. Next chapter, we're going to get another demon showing up. 
> 
> Actually, I unknowingly clumped together demon appearances and angel appearances, so at least you know what's to come...a bit >:)


	12. Agent and Agent Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to write, it didn't come very easy, and I wrote the next chapter before this one because this chapter just wouldn't write like the others would.
> 
> But alas, here it is, and I just want to let you all know that the next chapter (Chapter 13: Am I your Precious?) has non-con elements and rape references. If you can guess who shows up you get a brownie point. I will leave appropriate trigger warnings and a summary of the chapter in the end notes, but that is where the plot will take a sharp turn towards the climax.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

Reports flooded online of men and women running around with black eyes as the new trend in Lincoln, Nebraska, and in addition to the crop failures of the nearby farms being at an all-time high since the apocalypse, Team Free Will 3.0 all agreed something was happening there. Cas and Dean decided to check it out ‘because Dad went there once while trying to negotiate with a few demons and screw ‘em over with the Colt and I’m curious’, but something made them stop with duffles in their hands as they climbed the staircase to the heavy exit of the bunker. 

“Claire.” Cas calls out, looking at Dean and both understanding implicitly what Cas means and Dean’s agreement to it.

“Do you want to join us? You haven't had much practice against demons through your hunting career, this could be good practice for you.”

Claire raised her eyebrow at the offer, before slinking off and coming back within seconds with a fully packed duffle, making her way to and up the stairs, and eventually to the door, smiling at the baffled look both boyfriends were sharing because  _ she was prepared faster than we were, dammit!  _

“You two old men ready?” Claire strolled out of the bunker, as Dean and Cas shared a look, and cackles from the more eccentric of the group echoed to their ears. It was a bloody insane family they had gathered and were building. Some connections there already and some needing a little time, but this was the biggest the group had been in...Neither of them could remember. It was a nice feeling though. Knowing the bunker was full of life and joy and had a beating heart that pulsed with energy.

~~~~

It was a quick 3 hour ride, that mostly consisted of them coming up with a plan on how to kill all the demons and return them to the empty. There were more demons than they had dealt with in a single situation, excluding the large demon clouds because that’s just too many. The best they came up with is picking them off or trapping them all at once and exorcising them.

Dean checked Claire - she looked neat enough in her suit - and Cas - who always looked like he had just had sex with that hair and that gorgeous hickey on his neck and- always looking his very best. He himself was dressed up for the FBI too, but before he could go to open the car door, he stilled himself and looked at Cas.

“What’s the name of your ID?”

“Agent Beyoncé, why?”

“No one is going to believe that, and you’ve used that for at least 3 or 4 years, Cas. Here,” Dean held out a new badge that looked far newer than the one Cas had, and looked slightly less worn too.

Castiel smiled softly, and looked at the details of the badge, a distant but joyous smile gracing his pale lips. He nodded, slipping it into his inner pocket, and ignoring the teasing remarks Claire was flinging from the backseat as he exited the Impala with the smile remaining firmly on his face.

~~~

“Agent and Agent Page, and Agent Newton. We’re here on the news that so-called ‘demons’ have been rampant in your streets and injuring people, when did this begin?” Dean knows the answer, but he needs to hear it, to know that these are demons they’ve likely killed before.

“Just over 2 weeks ago.” It fits the timeframe, since all demons and angels escaped just under 3 weeks ago. Fuck.

“What crimes have they committed so far?” Claire asked, holding a small notebook as she took note of every detail for later reference.

“We’ve had a few mutilated bodies turn up, some theft, assault, a few stabbings, but they mostly seem content to annoy us and watch us run in circles, if i’m honest.”

They gathered some more information - namely what the mutilated bodies look like, where the first murder occurred and that one of the victims mentioned they smelt horrid - and decided to check out the first crime scene, which was now open to the public once more, but it would be good to ask staff, and look around in case anything was left.

It was a quick drive from the police station to the bar - though they advertised themselves as a lounge and banquet room - which sounded far more posh than what it actually was but c’est la vie. 

They looked around, and split up. Claire walked up to the bar and shot up a conversation with the bartender who was acting like a lust-drunk fool, flirting while also being incredibly dumb; Dean made his way through to the back and asked for the manager; all the while Castiel walked between patrons looking for anyone who looked like a demon, and he did spot one, but they looked familiar. Very familiar. So, instead of dragging them off for ‘questioning’, he decided to slip into the booth seat directly opposite them, and was surprised to find the face of his favourite demon staring right back at him.

“Meg?”

“Clarence?”

“I was wondering when you and Wonder Boy would show up, but I didn’t anticipate the kid, has it really been that long?” Meg’s teasing went over his head as a wide grin fell onto his face, because this wasn’t the empty, this was the morally grey demon who called him her unicorn and was unnaturally kind for her species.

“It has been 7 years since you passed, however, Claire is my vessel's daughter, neither mine nor Dean’s.”

“Right…” Meg smiled, nodding sympathetically in the most sarcastic way that seemed to fly right over Castiel’s head.

“So, how have the Winchesters et Castiel managed to screw the world over this time?”

Castiel’s brows furrowed, before he shook his head, as if forgetting her weird language usage as well as her immediately knowing - as well as everyone else they had encountered - that this strange occurrence was the Winchester’s fault.

“Dean made a hole in the empty, and after Jack-”

“Who?”

“My, uh...My Son.”

Meg raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

“Jack awoke all the beings in the empty, and after Dean opened the hole, they all escaped, it seems without the memories of their experience there. We have gathered several ‘strays’,” Cas brought his fingers up to create the quotation marks physically, before he continued, “Over the past weeks, and the bunker has been the most active its been since the Apocalypse World refugees-”

“Uhuh, an Apocalyptic World? It seems I’ve missed quite a bit. Care to fill me in, Clarence?”

~~~~~~~

“Well, I’m flattered such a powerful being would want my face as their face, but I’m a bit caught up on the ‘ _ my  _ face’ bit. This meat suit doesn’t have a soul anymore - it's practically mine now. How on this dumb green and blue planet did that happen?”

Claire had joined Castiel around where Jack was born in his story, and added commentary when needed, which earned a few chuckles from Meg.

“So far, everyone we’ve seen come from the empty has been in the same vessel they went there in, Mostly. The Seven Sins apparently decided to change it up a bit.” Claire gave a half-smile, tapping the table to the beat of ‘Who’s Laughing Now?’ by Ava Max, though neither of the unearthly beings knew that.

“They did always think they were too good for Hell” Meg reminisces, picking up her black coffee and catching a stray lock of hair in her free hand, and glaring at it with vehement distaste.

“Either of you two know how to dye hair?”

Claire muttered something and looked to the side, stifling awkward laughs of embarrassing memories, and Cas just looked a little constipated, trying to understand where that question came from.

“Oh- There you two are-” Dean smiled, and slid into the seat opposite Cas and Claire, only to end up beside Meg, who turned to him and recoiled towards the wall, away from the Winchester.

“Finally fessed up those cotton-candy, sickly sweet emotions, Lover Boy?”

Dean looked awkward for a moment, debating whether to pull his gun or answer...or just remain completely silent and let Claire or Cas deal with where the conversation is taken next because he doesn't know what on earth is happening. He should sass her, he should-

“You’re the Lover boy...Lover boy...demon...thing.” Now everyone at the table was awkward and that did nothing to help him avoid an awkward situation and seem cool.

“Anyways…” Meg turned to playfully glare at Dean, before facing the Angel and his ‘daughter’.

“You’re here for the demons causing chaos, am I wrong?”

“You are not. They aren’t being particularly subtle about what they are.” Cas confirmed, nodding once as he spoke. 

“We would not be adverse to your help, if you…” Cas trailed off, using his puppy-dog eyes unknowingly on Meg, who sat there fighting the thrall it put her under, but was ultimately overpowered.

“Fine, If you truly want my help, you have it.”

~~~~

The four of them moved to the three exits of the warehouse, Claire and Meg teaming up because  _ that totally won't be a flaming mess, dontcha think, Cas?  _ Dean and Cas took the other two exits, and they took the time to surround the door with a line of Salt, praying (Or in Meg’s case, cursing every deity she could name off the top of her head) a stray gust of wind won't blow it all away.

With a text message sent to everyone that vibrated or pinged quietly in the night air, the three doors swung open and The Two Hunters, The Angel and The Demon charged into the mess of inebriated demons - it looked about 20-or-30-odd demons, so it fit the amount of descriptions given to the group roughly, though they would have to count bodies later to check it was the full amount. Flying devil’s trap bullets lodged themselves into lots of the demons, and since they were so high or drunk, they barely fought back, unaware of the attack or why they couldn’t move, It was almost as easy as impersonating the FBI, since they could do little to fight back as they were such low-status demons with little power in them.

Going through the demons and stabbing them was easy, and before they knew it, they were standing atop a pile of corpses, some they recognised, and some they didn’t. The warehouse walls and floors were coated in blood, and the heavy smell clung to the air tightly. The four of them looked quite pleased with themselves for the quick work they made, and Claire and Dean were working on disposing the bodies in a field somewhere in Russia, thanks to Dean flying them there.

Meg sat on the hood of the Impala, arms crossed in front of her and her hair back to its chocolate-brown glory. She looked at Cas with something warm in her eyes - though nothing would make her admit that - and finally, she spoke up:

“He treats you better now, right? He doesn’t just use you for company or your powers?”

Cas looked at her, knowing immediately why she was on this train of questioning, before smiling softly and nodding.

“He treats me very well. We’ve argued and we’ve fought but I’m confident he reciprocates my affections.”

“Is he your Pizza Man?” Meg teased, chuckling faintly.

“Cas looked to the side, thinking that over for a second with the dopey smile still on his face, before nodding once more, almost bashfully. 

“Well, can’t keep a unicorn to yourself forever. I would have enjoyed it, though.” Meg winked at Cas before pushing herself off the hood, and giving a closed-lip smile to the Angel.

“See ya soon, Clarence.”

“Are you not going to come back to the Bunker with us? Do you not want to join us for a celebratory drink?”

Meg turned to look at him, looking him up and down in both his human and angelic forms, and waited a moment, before her posture softened slightly and a small smile crawled onto her face.

“Alright, Clarence. Lets get wasted to celebrate!” She pulled her phone out and tapped a few things in, before sliding it back into one of her leather jacket pockets, and seconds later, Dean and Claire arrived, both slightly cold but unharmed and smiling. 

“Drinks on me!” Dean called out, kissing Cas on the cheek as he passed him on his way to put his spade away. Claire and Meg began chatting, and Cas sat there content one of his favourite demons was going to stay with them for a bit longer, at the least.


	13. Am I your precious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Past Rape mention, Non-con, Homophobic Slurs 
> 
> To be honest hearing fag just reminds me of a cigarette or the faggot food thing-a-majig in the UK. Also, i'm sorry for this chapter but this is a very important chapter, third only to what will be chapter 18 and chapter 27, yes I memorized these chapter numbers. Also, I did proper research into Lincoln, Nebraska, the bar I referenced in the last chapter actually does exist, so does this one. I chose the Variations bar as this chapter's reference because it felt like the rundown hole in the wall bar they'd normally go to, you know? 
> 
> A summary of the chapter will be at the end for those who don't wish to read the chapter, but want to continue with the story.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

Soft rock pulsed through the bar, dim lights clouded their vision and together, the four of them threw back shot after shot, until Dean had had two and vetoed out so he could drive, but the others kept going, determined to see who would last the longest in their battle against the drunk flush consuming them from the inside out. The bartender stood there, laughing, and placing bets with his other colleague on who would drop out last, and while Claire had to stop early, Meg and Cas kept going until they had finished a bottle between them, and Meg was looking a tad tipsy, with her dilated pupils and loose frame, but Cas looked only slightly relaxed compared to the pleasant wave Meg was experiencing.

Dean smiled, watching them all interact, Meg and Claire comparing stories and monster kills, as well as the shittiest person they beat to a pulp for fun, and Cas was watching with horror when Claire confessed to beating a girl in high school for calling her a Fag, though it was more to the girl saying such a thing compared to Claire fucking her over for it. He seemed rather proud over her violence.

Dean was about to comment something about homophobes being dicks, before a flash of grey and a demented smile crept into his peripheral vision and he tensed, though no one seemed to notice. He looked around, trying to confirm if he did actually see what he thought he saw, rabid to see even just a little bit to confirm his deepest dread. He was hoping this moment could be postponed for a few more months at least, maybe that bastard would be taken care of before he even had to look at his ugly mug, but no,-

That  _ bloody smirk _ infuriated Dean to no end because every time he saw the bloody demon he wore that condescending smile wherever he went and it ruled the rage and hatred and agony he felt under his skin. The figure he now definitely knew was the most into Rhianna’s ‘S&M’ a demon could be in existence was making his way to the toilets. Some privacy to kill the bastard would be appreciated, yes. 

“‘I’ll be right back. Gotta go use the toilets.” He forced an awkward smile, though it wasn’t very hard to do, kissed Cas’ forehead and darted off to the toilets, palming the blade in his jacket as he did, stalking his prey into the closed off room that was the worst mistake that monster ever made.

He stormed through the door, and let it bang behind him, looking around for any trace of the demon, but it was all empty. The stalls, the urinals, the sink, all the space was empty, not a soul or being in sight - besides him. He slowly patrolled the stalls, checking each just in case, before frowning, and letting his arms fall to his sides, walking back to the door, ready to go sit down beside Cas and spiral into something bordering a panic attack, though he would never admit it no matter how close they got.

But then he was slammed into the wall just beside the entrance, one hand pressed against the wall, the other arm twisted tightly around his back and up his spine, face pinned to the wall as well, but the only difference was a sulfur-smelling breath rank against the side of his face and a body fitted tightly against the back of him. He shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly what was happening and feeling a churning discomfort in his stomach, beside a desire to throw up at his sheer touch. 

“My best pupil, how...wonderful to run into you here, isn’t it?”

“Alistair.” Dean spat, trying to twist his way out of the demon’s iron grip, “I think I’d describe it more like an inconvenience.” Maybe he could kill him if he could get a hand on him, like he did Lust. He moved the arm that wasn’t twisted behind his back and tried to slap Alistair, focusing on wanting to see his skin light up as he died, but the torturer gripped his wrist firmly, digging his nails into the sensitive flesh - forcing a pained grin from Dean’s pursed lips - and pushing it against the wall once more.

“Good to know your snarky attitude hasn’t left you in these long years. I’d love to pry it away from you, watch that sass turn to dust a second time.” He pressed himself a little closer to the trapped hunter, twisting his arm a bit more than what’s supposed to be normal as Dean groans, trying to stay quiet despite the sharp pain that shot through his shoulder, and trying to pull himself away from the demon who was aligned and pressed close against his back.

“I’d like to see you try, especially in such a public place, Golem. It’s a nice boost to my ego that you’re still thinking about me so much. Am I your precious?” Dean snickered, ignoring the swift kick to his ankle that makes his right leg week and his balance shift to leaning on the wall slightly.

“Never liked those references of yours, especially when you got me involved, so why don’t we try this again.” Something presses against his thigh as Alistair’s condescending tone fills the toilet room. It feels kind of like a gun, or it could be-

“Man, I knew you were happy to see me, Alistair, But I never knew it was this much.” The tone in his voice must do something to Alistair, because suddenly something’s coiling in his gut and it isn’t pleasant at all. It’s painful and sluggish and adamant it’s not going anywhere.

“I am quite happy to see you, “ That sends shivers down Dean’s tense spine, “But I want to know two things and you are going to tell me them, alright?” This is too eerily similar to Hell and Alistair knows this, and Dean’s willing to bet his favorite gun he’s doing it on purpose, the sick bastard.

“Depends on the questions. I mean, if you ask me if I find you attractive, then the answer would be no plain and simple and we can move to the second question-” The pain from before gets louder and its deafening because all he can focus on his the rolling inside of him like something is trying to run a marathon inside of him with knives on the bottoms of their shoes. His ears ring and his tongue tastes vaguely coppery like blood, and he knows that this is a bad situation.

“How did I escape the empty? Because I’m more than certain that no being in creation can do that.” Dean tries to remain silent, because he doesn’t know how Alistair will use this information and he can’t afford for it to be against his family, he  _ can’t. _

“Dean,” His voice is almost affectionate and it makes him sick to his tumultuous stomach, and he wonders if he can try and throw up on Alistair from this position. Alistair presses himself against Dean a second time and-  _ that is not a gun, nor is it any other type of weapon. Shit! _

As clear as day, Dean can remember his first trip to Hell, every second of all 40 years of it. Some better than others, but that happens after over a decade away from it all. Before his trip down under to the outback of the universe, he had looked at men a few times with a gaze that was more than simple appreciation for another man’s body. He knew - though he denied it with every single breath he took - that he wouldn’t have minded going for a tumble in the hay with those men, though he never got a chance before his soul was torn from his body and dragged down to Hell while being used as a chew toy.

When he got there, Alistair knew his worst fears and deepest secrets within a day. And he used them, he sure as Hell did. Of course, he used blades and hammers and even a razor on a few memorable occasions for physical pain, but it was the mental torture he used, and he used that blooming curiosity against him, mutilated it and left it for dead. He’s more than certain that if Alistair never did that, he would have fucked Cas or taken their relationship one step further during the apocalypse, maybe slightly after if he was truly unsure. 

“Don’t leave me hanging, Dean. I thought we were friends, we were definitely  _ close  _ enough to be friends.” And yep, he’s grinding on him from behind, he’s going to throw up.

“If you don’t want to say anything, then that’s fine.” What-

“I’m sure you remember that even after your...best attempt at torture, I was able to overpower Castiel, your little angel. A human and a demon are easy enough for me to kill, and I would love to get my hands on an angel, tear its wings off, shred it’s grace into pieces, see how it makes him...tick.”

Panic surged up inside Dean because he couldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t! Alistair would do it, he knows he would and it would be because he had to keep his mouth shut for once.

“I tore a hole in the empty getting Cas out, all the angels and demons that have died and been woken up escaped.” The pain in his stomach is getting unbearable, especially with Cas, Claire and Meg’s lives on his mind, as well as the repulsive movement of Alistair behind him. 

“That leads me to my second question.” Dean’s now flush with the wall, and Alistair is flush with him and it’s the most uncomfortable situation he’s ever been in, and he once had his brother walk in on him being spanked in silk underwear. That is saying something.

“Something happened to your soul, and since you can tear a hole into the only thing larger than creation, something isn’t right with you. What is it?”

He shouldn’t tell him. This is important, he shouldn’t tell him. But the image of Cas begging for Dean to help while he’s paralyzed with guilt, watching Alistair tear him apart is eating away at him and he just needs to say it, get it done with. 

“I made myself a reaper to get to him.”

“You don’t look like any reaper I've seen, unless-” Alistair tucked his nose into Dean’s neck, and he just had to close his eyes, imagine it was Cas, it would all be fine. 

“You’re Death. The Horseman.” and  _ fuck. _ He has no clue how Alistair knows through smell and eyesight alone - maybe there’s a sixth sense involved - but it's disgusting and makes him feel guilty he couldn’t kill Alistair when he was trying to slap him earlier.

“You’re not very strong, not now anyways, but I still can’t kill you... Imagine all the pain we could cause together, with your power and my talent.” What the hell is this insane demon talking about? It’s not like he’d try to help him of his own volition, and even then he’d try to kill Alistair at the first chance possible.

“Oh, this is going to be…” He leans forwards until his smiling lips are brushing against Dean’s ears in such an intimate way, he knows this is some sort of mental manipulation but still feels sickly and dirty with just the proximity, let alone the touch.

“So much fun” Is whispered to him, before his head is pulled off the wall and slammed back in, leaving his head ringing and his balance off kilter. He slips to the floor, onto his knees, moving his once twisted arm around weakly as it gains its strength back much faster than it would if he were still human.

He looks to where Alistair would be, but no one is there. He’s alone in the toilets, trying to pull his shattered sense of security back together because  _ he was just threatened by Alistair  _ and he knows exactly what he can do and is rightfully scared beyond his wits and sick to his slowly-healing-but-still-painful stomach.

How on earth was he going to explain this to everyone still in the bar, or even back at the bunker? ‘Hey! I was weak and let my old pal Alistair threaten and grind against me as he threatened Cas and I gave valuable information which could be very bad for us. What should we have for dinner?’

He couldn’t say a word about this, he should say something, anything, but he couldn’t admit what just happened to anyone but himself and he hated it. He’s supposed to be this cosmic being that could kill God fully powered if he wanted to - though he feels painfully normal, and it's the most bizarre experience he's had yet - but he couldn’t even kill one demon when he wanted to. It’s pathetic! He should be better, he’s always adjusted quick to situations like this, but this is ridiculous! 

Once the pain from his stomach and head is gone, and he feels physically fine beyond his knotted stomach and thunderous heart beating faster than a horse gallops, he pulls himself up, checks himself over in the mirror. He looks fine, beyond the haunted look in his green eyes. Time to face the music.

~~~~

Dean crept back to the table, and sat down, downing his drink without a care for the looks directed his way by his family and Meg. The taste of the bitter alcohol sweeping through his chest and veins calms him slightly, and he can get...everything that just happened out of his mind if he ignores it enough. He looks around, points at Claire’s empty glass in acknowledgement, and gets up, walking towards the bar, and leaning against the side while waiting for the bartender to notice him. 

Cas walks up by his side and looks at him with concerned, knowing eyes, and raises an eyebrow, inviting Dean to share what happened away from everyone else. Dean gives him a confused look - a charade and they both know it - as if he doesn’t know what Cas is on about, and with a controlled look of understanding, Cas nods, and walks back to the group with an air of hurt around his form being obscured by other bar-goers and drinkers.

Dean suppresses the ache in his chest, telling him to go and apologize to Cas right now, and he feels something small inside him shift as his boyfriend walks away from him, And though Dean knows nothing of what that bloody thing is, he decides he doesn’t want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary for those who don't want to read this chapter: 
> 
> Dean, Cas, Claire and Meg are partying and enjoying themselves until Dean spots Alistair and follows him into the toilets. He's cornered and pinned and forced to explain what happened to explode most beings out of the empty, as well as how Dean was able to do that. Alistair promises his return, and Dean isolates himself because he's an anxious, self-deprecating dumbass and we love him despite him being infuriating.
> 
> Also, can we be proud that I wrote this in a day, and procrastinated both the previous and next chapter while doing so?   
> The next chapter is a bit off topic, but wraps up a loose end and I think it's quite sweet if I'm honest.


	14. Beata Michaeli Archangelo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS!!!PLACE!!!EXISTS!!!
> 
> I KNOOOWW RIGHT!?!?
> 
> (also 15.19 final fight was set in CANADA!!! WTF-)  
> ((Can you tell this was written on a sugar high and the end notes were written normally?))
> 
> I'm not from America and this show is SET in America so its unnecessarily vague or unnecessarily detailed and I enjoy the research because when I don't want to write, I can get an idea of what I'm going to write and not feel lazy :)

Burnt Eye Sockets - A New Killer or a Lethal Phenomena?

  
  


At 11:08 last night in Santa Maria, California, Three bodies were found in an old, abandoned, dilapidated factory building just out of the city on the side of Betteravia road. They had been dead for a day before some local teens found the bodies of Luisa Stewart (28), Cyrus Griffin (54), and Alfie Craig (44), all with their eyes burned from their sockets. They suffered from shock and severe blood loss before they passed. Doctors claim this is an unfortunate phenomena resulting of the leftover chemicals in the air from the glucose factory they were found in, while the Police force claims this was murder from ‘a sadist who probably got off from their screams’ - Officer Shannon.

Little information is being leaked to the press or to the public, and the investigation is still ongoing.

Adam looked at the newspaper, and nodded to himself, slurping his mocha as he looked at the pictures of the taped-off factory, and one of the bodies covered in a respectful cloth. The burnt eyes was a common way Angels killed humans and demons - showed them their true form or smote them and their eyes would burn out; the lucky ones became blind and the less fortunate either became mad in addition to sight loss or died. 

He’d been looking for Michael since he’d suddenly appeared in a forest with no recollection as to how he got there, and Michael wasn’t answering no matter what he did. He’d almost drowned trying to get him to react like the drenched, pissy cat he was when he was silent. But he’d gotten nothing but a mild case of hypothermia he managed to stave off thanks to a diner just down the road taking mercy on him and giving him a warm drink and a fresh set of clothes, even if they were spare uniform pieces (a white shirt, khakis and a navy cardigan. A _cardigan!)_. 

That was a few weeks ago, and since he’d been looking for any signs at all of a supernatural being, mostly an angel though he had seen multiple ghost cases and vampires, from what he read. He only knew about those because Michael had told him to skim over them once while they were in a vegan coffee shop. (Michael enjoyed it more than he normally did, while he didn’t) and explained why.

This looked promising, though. Very promising.

~~~~~~

The trip from Britannia Beach in British Columbia, Canada to California was part walking stretches of road, and part catching lifts from truckers who seemed polite and non-threatening, though one did look at him weirdly in Oregon somewhere. And a town over, he snuck a sandwich and a bottle of water from one of the truckers he rode with when he got off, praying he was never reported or found out.

He walked into town, and made his way - mostly guessing, and a little bit of asking - to a diner for a coffee to keep him going and to get some information on what happened. The locals were bound to know more than anyone else, they were watching this crime’s after-effects in real time right in front of them, after all. The door swung open in front of him, and a woman stood in his way, looking like she’d seen a ghost, and Adam froze, neither expecting to be facing someone, and both stammered, trying to apologize and excuse themselves for the awkward situation.

“I’m sorry for being awkward about...looking at you. I’ll leave.” The woman nodded stiffly, before darting around Adam and power-walking away with a ram-rod straight spine. Yikes.

Adam ignored what was possibly the most awkward conversation he’s had - if you could call it that -, tied closely with meeting Sam and Dean for the first time, and walked into the diner, and towards the counter, and to the server who had already noticed him and was waiting for an order.

“Uh, Coffee please.” He set the money for a coffee on the side between them and looked around the other patrons, no one particularly angelic or demonic popping up through the crowd. 

“Hey,” Adam began, watching the man: - he had a hair net on a big bushy beard as well as his head, which looked bald, but he wasn’t going to say anything. That man, while fixing the pressed coffee into a machine, turned his attention onto Adam, keeping his expression neutral.

“Do you know what happened to Luisa? Luisa Stewart” He chose one of the victims randomly, pretending he was close with them was a surefire way to get information, he’d seen it on a show once...Or maybe he was making it up. Regardless…

“You close?” The man asked, leaning against the workbench, letting the coffee brew

“We were. She was my brother’s girlfriend. He-he’s passed since, but we stayed close. She hasn’t been answer….answering her phone for a few- a few days and we’re all worried.”

The server's face softened, and he reached over, obviously won by the show of emotion he was putting on, and placed a comforting hand on Adam’s shoulder. Adam nodded, mustering up some misty eyes to hit a home run, remembering when he was told his mother was dead to create tears for the act. That her bright smile, her warm laugh and her perfect hugs were cold and harsh and...gone...

A single tear stained the counter below him.

He managed to pull himself back from the edge of sobbing and smiled sadly at the man, hoping he thought he was remembering his brother’s death, not being a sissy. The man at the counter looks torn, but finally, as the coffee machine alerts him that the batch of fresh joe is done, he begins,

“She, uh…” Before finally, “She’s dead. Some think it was natural, some think it was a murder, but she’s...gone. I’m sorry.”

Adam feigned pain in his eyes, and a breathy gasp, closing his eyes and praying to Michael (for the 50-something-th time, it’s not like he answers and it calms him to be talking to his friend even if it’s one sided) that this bloody act will end soon and won’t be found out.

“Do you know what happened. She- She-” He fakes another breathy gasp, hoping it sounds like a stifled sob, and it seems to do the trick.

“There was a bright light out there, and I mean full brightness phone right in your face in the middle of the night at the sugar factory down the road from where I live. In a few days, three bodies show up, Luisa included. I’m not sure what happened, but the police are moving out of there now, so maybe - but I never told you this - you could go check it out.” The man poured the coffee as he spoke and handed it to him when he’d finished his monologue, and Adam softly nodded his head and as he drank his coffee, pretended to fight tears that weren’t there.

When he finished, he thanked the server for the coffee and left without a word, trying to figure out what to do until nightfall and an hour after that. 

~~~~~~

Adam crept towards the factory, staying as quiet as he could because he knew just how good an angel’s hearing was, and he wasn’t sure this was Michael anymore. After a full day of praying, and thinking this over, he decided this was maybe, yes, a powerful angel killing a few demons, but he hadn’t gotten anything from Michael, though that didn’t mean much. Adam truly believed that if Michael was near, he’d at least clarify what the fuck happened for him to appear on some beach and not try and help him when he almost drowned in an attempt to get his ass on that beach and to explain. 

But yeah, strong angel, not Michael. It might be another Archangel, or it could be Castiel. Or Uriel, apparently he was quite a strong angel when he was alive. 

Regardless, He crept to a loosely boarded window and peeked through one of the large gaps, praying his blond hair wasn't spied from within if someone was there, when-

“Michael you _FUCKER_ -” That sounded familiar. “GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! YOU OWE US ALL AN EXPLANATION- YOU _OWE_ ME AN EXPLANATION!!!” It was that woman from the Diner entrance who looked at him like-

It suddenly hit him, she probably thought he was Michael, and would come if she called. Shit, this was a bad idea. He needed to leave, _shit-_

“Where do you think you’re going, Winchester?”

Ice skittered down his spine and he held his breath, and he felt it was for nothing because his heartbeat was deafening as he waited to see what happened.

A harsh hand fell onto his back, and suddenly he was pushed to the floor, his little breath forced from his lungs with the impact. He was now inside the abandoned factory, and no remains of the police or the prior murders were to be found. No one would be coming to help him. No one _could_ help him. _Shit._

“ _You’re_ the one chummy with Michael. Good, least you can't kill me before I get some answers. Or a reputation as a murderer.” She chuckled darkly.

“Can I at least get a name?” He asked, staying as still as he could on the floor, afraid if he moved he might get stabbed or something like that.

“Baraqiel. And you’re...Dean was his sword but you’re the little brother. Adam, wasn’t it?” She asked rhetorically , settling one of her feet on the side of his head, pushing it into the floor slightly with the pressure. 

“You’re the one Michael’s spent his time waltzing around America with apparently, instead of doing his _duty_ in Heaven. He should have been helping upstairs, not some _spoilt, whiny little boy._ ” The pressure increased, and increased, and increased unbearably and all he could focus on was how close he might be to being crushed like a watermelon with a hammer.

“Michael! I have your pet under my thumb! More like my foot. Better come and _ANSWER ME_ or I’ll start breaking bones!” She waited a few seconds, and nothing happened and Adam’s stomach plummeted because even with his head all dizzy, he knew what this meant.

“Maybe his spine would be a smart first choice, stop him escaping…” His- his SPINE? The thing he NEEDS? The long spiked bone down his back?! _Fuck_ ! Several curses shot through his head before everything suddenly went white with fuzzy, searing agony along his back and through his neck, and he tried to move his hands to the pain, to curl into a ball, to move...but he stayed still, and something broke in Adam. He roared, pain and fear intermingling into one because he was being _tortured_ and he was going _to die_ and he doesn’t even know if Michael is okay. And he’s going to be found in a few days time when one of the officers think they’ve forgotten something and _no one_ will care because he’s _already dead_ to the state and-

“Don’t you care for your pet, oh Glorious Archangel? Does his life mean nothing to you?! Do _all_ their lives mean nothing to you!?”

His fingertips were twitching, randomly, but he couldn’t feel them flex or release, and he felt like he was floating outside his body watching it suffer and struggle to move because all he can taste is dust and dirt and something like burnt sugar and ozone permeating the air, it's nauseating.

“Fine, Say goodbye to your _boy toy_ !” Baraqiel screamed to the Heavens, to the dark black sky with small stars speckled through it because of a half-removed ceiling. It was a nice night to die, he thought, because his end was certain and he couldn’t even feel anything beyond some twisted apathy, he should be feeling something, he’s about to be _killed_ , but he just wants it to be _quiet_ and he wants his friend by his side to guide him to Heaven because he did nothing in life to deserve Hell. He’s going to _die_ and he never told Michael that-

Anguished cries flooded the room, and claps of thunder accompanied them, but they weren’t his, though he was whimpering from the agonizing and uncomfortable sensation of existing, and he saw a blinding light in his peripheral vision. 

“Adam?!” He whimpered, because everything was _too much_ and he just wanted to _sleep_ because it was all _too much_ , he just wanted his friend by his side-

“Adam, I’m here. I’m- I’m sorry. Here, let me heal you.” Something warm and calming ran through his body, returning feeling and control to his limbs and soothed the pain in his back and neck, and at his temple too where he had been pinned. Still, he felt disorientated, but he was much better than before. He groaned as he adjusted his limbs and pushed himself onto all-fours, and onto his knees, panting as the adrenaline he didn’t know was there faded and he was left feeling jittery and nervous.

Michael was in a young man’s form, black hair, and striking grey eyes, with a handsome face that was strangely familiar, though he couldn’t place it. 

“Adam, “ One of his hands held his head gently, a thumb on his cheek and the rest holding his head carefully, and the other on his shoulder, as he looked his friend over with both mortal and supernatural eyes. 

“Michael, what-”

“Baraqiel was my right hand, and felt slighted when she found out I was released over a year ago and had been spending time with you instead of fulfilling my duty to heaven. I am sorry I haven’t answered your prayers-”

“You heard?”

“I heard them all, and I am sorry, but I had a few excuses to make and a few angels to intimidate before I could return to check on you thoroughly.”

“I almost died before, how-”

“I could have saved you if it was necessary, but I would have had to return immediately lest the angels turn on us. I’m sorry.”

Adam furrowed his brows, trying to understand that. 

“What happened? Why was I on a beach suddenly? Where were you? What happened with God and my brothers-”

“They are fine, I took a moment to check in case you asked. They defeated God with the help of the Nephilim boy. You were on a beach because-” He stopped suddenly, as if nervous to continue.

“Because I was killed there before the Winchesters succeeded. God smote me.”

Some form of righteous rage erupted in Adam and spread lava through his boiling veins. That fucker, He’d have loved to get his hands on that man and hurt him for everything he did to Michael, despite not being a violent man himself.

“I awoke In Heaven, which is why I wasn’t with you, and why the angels slowed my return to you.”

Adam nodded, the furious magma cooling through his body because the narrative was fitting together in his head and he finally understood what happened now. If Michael wasn’t mad, he wouldn’t be either. 

“Hey, who are you wearing?” He asked, smiling softly, because this angel was a caring dork as much as he was fierce and terrifying. 

“John Winchester. You were alive and using your body and he is the only other person I’ve used as a vessel.”

Adam shifted uncomfortably because he just mentally called his father’s face handsome, but that wasn’t important right now.

“Do you want to...uh. Want to continue bunking with me?”

“Was that an invitation to share a bed or take you as my vessel once more?” He had a straight face, and Adam’s own face twisted with disgust at the idea of sharing a bed with his dad, and he saw Michael smiling and something light settled onto his chest, reigning in his disgust. 

“Not the bed one, definitely. I haven’t got one, but I do have a vessel for us to use.”

Michael smiled brightly, looking like the sun as he did, and he nodded, though normally the vessel said yes, and a bright electric blue grace climbed from his father’s mouth, and his body crumbled to ash as it did, and Adam’s mouth opened to accept the grace, to accept the Archangel back into him, and when the process finished, he looked where Michael was stood, and an identical version of him was stood there, the same stupid smile on his face as before. 

“I passed a nice flower garden on my way here, would you like to visit it with me?” Adam asked, an eyebrow raised to accompany his question, and Michael nodded, taking control of the vessel and taking Adam’s directions to take them to the flower gardens, where they would have too much fun and be chased by the security guards a few blocks before losing them.

They smiled at each other as they did, and moved onto the next attraction and experience they could share and enjoy together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a bit of a filler episode, but I enjoyed cleaning up this storyline and what happened to the Peaceful our-world Michael and Adam, because it was shit how they treated Michael in the show, though the Dean parallel hurt with the whole father-worship-even-after-he-does-unforgivable-things-to-you-and-others-who-might-not-deserve-it.
> 
> Also, It's not my OTP but I do like the idea of the two of them falling in love after a few decades together exploring the world, and Michael teaching Adam every language they need when they come across it, and Adam helping Michael feel more human and happier with everything that's happened and accept he got handed a shitty deal with life and the two feeling the same way and finding comfort in that and each other like IMAGINE.
> 
> But yeah, I didn't explicitly put it in the fic, but I tried to hint at it for those who enjoy that, but kept it platonic for those that don't, since this is only a side chapter to wrap it all up.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. Enchanté

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to write, I had to restart at some point, and then I just stopped two paragraphs in for a good few days. I have been writing the torture chapter, and let me just say this is going to be much longer than my normal length, especially since I have a Jack scene set a week or so before the main body of the chapter, but put in after.
> 
> Regardless of my progress, here it is! And after this, we're going onto the 4 part special with a small break that all happens on the same night!!!!
> 
> Also, the quote used is from Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. :)

The people inside the bunker were going a little mad.

Okay, maybe that was an understatement.

Maybe?

_ Okay, fine _ !

But, to be fair, they had been inside for 3 days straight, the angels and demons out across the world taking care of the less discreet angels and demons making nuisances of themselves. However, the humans and Dean were diligently scouring the web for either more angelic and demonic cases for the non-humans to deal with, or trying to create a near-copy of Ash’s demon tracker from over a decade ago. None of them had left the bunker for anything beyond Sam and Eileen’s morning run. Cas brought a few things he knew they needed replenished and once he left Dean kicked a chair because his chance to get out with a reason beyond a day long drive was gone, and broke his toe, only for it to heal seconds later. He still wasn’t used to….just all  _ that _ . Not yet, anyways.

Sam had been getting progressively closer and closer to putting the tracker together, and Eileen had been pointing out mistakes or what he could do to improve accuracy. A few times, Sam and Dean moaned to each other while in the kitchen that Miss Butters could have been a god sent during all this, but quickly sobered and agreed that it was better she was free and not tied to the bunker any longer. 

It was the third day of their stint looking for released beings from the empty, and trying to put together a tracker, when a knock on the door echoed through the Bunker. The small group of 5 were spread out from the War table to the far end of the Library tables, and everyone was accounted for but Claire who had disappeared less than a minute before for something. Kaia - being the only one now sat at the war table, got up and walked to the door, looking back to the others sitting in the bunker to see if they knew anything about someone visiting. Cas and the supernatural beings just let themselves in, so this was a bit unnerving for Kaia, in all fairness.

Kaia opened the door hesitantly, hoping it was Donna or Jody or Patience coming to visit, but she found a red-faced man with a sneer and brittle grey coils of hair atop his head. He held himself prim like an upper class citizen from the 1800’s, but he didn’t feel...normal. There was something otherworldly about him like Uriel or Jack, or Gabriel when he was in a bad mood, and even Dean was starting to feel just like that very same otherworldliness. But this man didn’t feel positive, he didn’t feel like a cool breeze on a hot day, in fact it felt like the very stifling heat the cool wind relieved you from. 

Before she could even blink, the figure was gone, and a whiney, old sounding voice came from the bottom of the stairs she had just climbed.

“The Winchesters! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Did you and your guardian angel finally adopt, or are you still woefully pining for each other?” Metatron mused, turning to Dean, only to freeze. 

“This isn’t like the Mark of Cain, no… It’s- It’s stronger.” Metatron looked at Dean as if he wasn’t actually looking at him, everyone else in the room either feeling awkward, worried, pissed, or just plain confused.

“You...are different. Just like Sam was when the apocalypse ripped through the universe like a freight train.”

Sam stood up, and pulled an angel blade from the shelf beside him. His face was contorted into a wrathful look that sent shivers down both Kaia and Metatron’s spines, and Dean sat there proud of his little brother for standing up for himself.

“You’re not leaving this bunker alive.”

“Oh, what are two former druggies, a deaf woman, and a fledgling going to do to the protagonist who got a second chance?” Metatron smiles smugly, laughing to himself.

“You  _ disasters _ !” He screeches, seeming less and less sane as he keeps talking. “I spent so long rewatching you ruin the universe, and then catching up on you ruining the universe while I was gone and I must say you have failed even at what you are best at!” He begins to walk forward, but so does Sam, so he stops at the end of the wooden tables within the library.

“You mess everything up, you two. That’s all you’re good at! I had my story perfectly written so I could make my comeback! So I could be seen! And you fucked it up!” He’s glowing now, radiating his grace within his fury. “ And I can’t wait to see you finally dead at the end of my story. The Underdog making his grand comeback!”

Dean steps forward, looking at Sam with an eyebrow raised, and then darting back to his chair. Both glare at each other, and Metatron lets out a twisted guffaw.

“You boys never change.” He tilts his head, different from when Cas does it because this looks like a snapped neck, lying at 90 degrees from where it was before. Yeah, he’s lost it. 

Metatron disappears from view and then reappears, blade poised at Kaia’s throat, her hands around the one holding her still, tugging at it with all her strength, but it barely moves an inch.

“ _ Let her go _ !” The brothers call out in unison, remembering when they had to leave the Other Kaia to her death, and both knowing Claire would not leave her designated room if they let her girlfriend die. Miracle chose that moment to crawl out of his spot under the table and growl at Metatron, sensing his hostility.

“How about...No?” Sam, Eileen and Miracle were sent back into shelves, Miracle seemed fine but Sam and Eileen looked worn and winded. Dean hadn’t moved an inch, and seemed surprised by this development.

“I bet Abaddon would have loved to get her hands on you.” Metatron teased, and Dean shivered, remembering the profound ecstasy of digging his blade into her body and watching her skin glow as she screamed, and felt himself gag slightly because he still felt bad about how good his time with the mark had felt.

“She never did, though I’m sure she wanted to.” Dean smirked, walking forwards slowly, but Metatron brought his blade into Kaia’s skin, and a single drop of blood meandered down her chest. Dean felt his stomach drop and his lungs just stop because  _ shit _ !-

“I thought you wanted to prove you didn’t need to be important, wanted to stop being the protagonist, the God, and just be heroic.” Dean muttered, trying to remember everything he could about the time Amara had first been out, and remembering his sacrifice.

“I did, but, you know, in the empty, you just rewatch your regrets again and again and again and ag _ ain and again and again _ -” His hands are shaking so much, that Kaia hisses and more blood spills down from his carelessness.

“It’s  _ worse _ than Hell! I watched you and your brother and that poor excuse of an angel ruin my life, ruin my plan, my story again and again and-”

“We’re sorry, alright-”

“ _ I don't care _ ! I want you to _ suffer _ ! Just as you made me do so. ‘ _ Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful _ ’.”

Metatron smiled, breathy gasps escaping from his twisted mouth, “Wish Crowley a fond enchanté, and remember your manners-”

Blood dripped down from his lip and he lit up like he was on fire, screaming, but everyone there swore they could hear laughter. When he finally fell to the floor, his blade and Kaia following him, Claire stood behind where he once was, a smug, prideful grin on her face. 

“This is a poor excuse for an angel, dearie me-” She mocked, chuckling after, and wiping blood from her blade onto Metatron's shirt. Kaia shot up, and wrapped her arms in a death grip around Claire.

Dean walked over to his brother, who was just beginning to grasp consciousness. Sam let out a hoarse cough, and looked around, groaning. Dean set his hand firmly on his brothers shoulder, intending to check him for damage, but-

It was  _ glowing _ , and so were Sam's veins. Before either could panic, the glow disappeared, and Sam sat up straighter, and looked at his brother with confusion.

“Did you just-”

“Heal you? Uh, yeah, apparently?” Dean looked at the hand that had healed Sam with an odd sort of distrust to be looking at one’s hand with, but stood up, and walked over to Eileen, who was being comforted ( _ read _ : licked) by miracle, and looked like she was too sore to move.

“Can I, ah…” He held up the same hand he had healed Sam with, and Eileen nodded, wincing at the soreness of moving her head. Dean set his hand on her shoulder, as he did to Sam, and the two of them glowed again, and Eileen wrapped an arm around Dean and muttered a thanks to him, as she got up. 

Dean looked over to the girls, mainly Kaia, and held his hand up, with an awkward smile on his face. Maybe this new gig wasn’t so bad after all. Not all gloom and doom. He walked over to Kaia, Claire looking at him with Cas’ head tilt in the cutest way possible, as he set his hand, this time his other one, on Kaia’s shoulder, and the glow happened. Huh, good to know it wasn’t unique to one hand.

The three of them grinned at each other, just as the door swung open and several beings stormed in, weapons drawn and eyes glowing (or just being completely black, not all the faux-people who walked in were angels.).

“Where is that Bastard!?” Crowley called out, and a few angels made noises of agreement. They all stopped when they saw Metatron on the floor, limp and dead, and Claire holding the only blade in the room.

“Not bad, kid.”

“Impressive!”

“She’s good with a blade,” That one was muttered, but still audible

“ _ That’s my gir _ l.”

Claire blushed at the praise, and Kaia chastely kissed her cheek, before crouching down and helping Claire pick up the body, only for Uriel to take the duty onto himself and disappear with a lowered head and the sound of wings flapping.

~~~~~~

“How bad was the empty?” Dean asked, fiddling with the hand Cas had thrown over Dean when they decided to spoon.

Cas had his lips pressed to the back of Dean’s neck, faintly kissing it as he thought over how to respond.

“I saw my biggest regrets, my worst moments…”

Dean squeezed his hand, encouraging him onwards.

“I saw you, accepting Michael, the Leviathan taking control of my body, Chuck kill- _ killing  _ Jack...Naomi, admitting I raised Sam from Perdition incorrectly, but you raised me before I could see anything else.” Cas squeezed Dean in his grip, and kissed just under his ear lobe, and Dean melted under his affections. 

“But I’ve accepted them all, because they led to my love for you, and your love for me.” 

“Yes it did.”

And though neither truly needed to sleep, the two dozed off clutching to each other with casual intimacy cocooning them.


	16. Jolene, Jolene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly them being happy before the angst settles in, though the ending is a cliffhanger - SORRY!!
> 
> Also, I haven't edited it like I have started doing because I refuse to listen to the monotone google translate voice read out 4 songs I enjoy (lets minus 'I'm alive', though.)  
> hope you enjoy them all having some fun, though I do think I didn't give some characters adequate screen time, but hopefully I'll make that up in the next few chapters.

The day after Metatron graced the inhabitants of the bunker with his presence, the humans decided they had had enough of looking at news articles and code and prayed or called the beings who had returned back to their hunt around 6, while on the road towards Lebanon. Claire and Kaia had taken the other car, and Sam had decided to drive a third car - a pale blue 1957 Thunderbird that Dean had fixed up a few years ago and had left in the garage - because if the Angels and Demons decided to zap into the cars while they were driving because the group (not including Donna, Jody, Garth and the few others they had interacted with enough to trust and have semi-regular contact with) had grown to be 12 people. 

_ 12. _

Claire thought it was hilarious, since the Winchesters had always been solitary, but now had over 10 people bunking with them. 

A few of the Angels and Demons joined them in their cars, and they met up with Balthazar and Crowley who had already bought enough drinks to earn them odd looks from other patrons, but for everyone to thank them and take one (or two) shots, and a beer or cocktail each. 

They drank and danced and drank some more until everyone was tipsy or wasted, basking in the warmth fluttering in their chest with every sip and the slight fogginess that overcame them when drunk. Demons flirted with anyone who happened to pass by the table, the angels were gathered, trying to see who was superior at darts (though most of them got the little projectile that looked like a warped needle into the center circle with ease) and the humans placed bets on both affairs while chatting about whatever popped into their heads.

And after several drinks fruity enough they forgot it was half hard liquor Claire dragged Kaia up onto the karaoke stage that had been used once this evening only to sing Dancing queen by a middle aged man who had been drinking himself into oblivion all day.

Claire picked a song, and kissed her girlfriend on her lips, accidentally hitting teeth to teeth as the music started, and she began to sing., 

  
  


_ Can't count the years on one hand that we've been together _

_ I need the other one to hold you _

_ Make you feel, make you feel better _

Her voice was deep but could reach the same extremes as Hayely Williams, but she was drunker than Homer Simpson at a duff beer convention, so her words slurred and she couldn’t reach the high note on the ‘make’s in the third line without vr voice cracking. Cas and Dean cheered them on regardless, along with a few others.

_ It's not a walk in the park to love each other _

_ But when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny, you're the worth it _

_ 'Cause after all this time _

_ I'm still into you _

Kaia had joined in now, mumbling more than singing, but by the end, she was singing quietly to Claire, no one else.

_ I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you, I'm into you _

_ And even baby our worst nights _

_ I'm into you, I'm into you _

_ Let 'em wonder how we got this far, _

Kaia twirled Claire, but both almost tripped and fell over, so they abandoned that fairly quickly.

_ 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all _

_ Yeah, after all this time _

_ I'm still into you _

_ Recount the night that I first met your mother _

_ And on the drive back to my house I told you that, I told you that I loved ya _

_ You felt the weight of the world fall off the shoulder _

_ And to your favorite song we sang along, to the start of forever _

“They’re wonderful for each other.”

“Yeah, Kaia is a good kid, and maybe good enough for Claire.”

_ And after all this time _

_ I'm still into you _

_ I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you, I'm into you _

_ And even baby our worst nights _

_ I'm into you, I'm into you _

_ Let 'em wonder how we got this far, _

_ 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all _

_ Yeah after all this time _

_ I'm still into you _

_ Some things just, some things just make sense _

_ And one of those is you and I _

_ Some things just, some things just make sense _

_ And even after all this time _

_ I'm into you _

_ Baby not a day goes by that I'm not into you _

Claire messily kissed Kaia, and Kaia reciprocated passionately, just as the final chorus started and they both began singing as loud as they could while keeping...semi on pitch.

_ I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you, I'm into you _

_ And even baby our worst nights _

_ I'm into you, I'm into you _

_ Let 'em wonder how we got this far, _

_ 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all _

_ Yeah after all this time _

_ I'm still into you _

_ I'm still into you _

_ I'm still into you _

They earned a roar of applause, and Claire clasped her hands together and waved them about above her head, as if the clapping and whistling was a victory, only to be fondly dragged off to the booth as the usual chatter hummed through the bar once more.

Sam and Eileen went to the darts board and when they began to play a real game, mopped the floor with every being they faced (though it's debatable whether the angels let them win or not, Sam and Eileen were just so proud no one brought that possibility up)

When they finished, Sam spun around to face his brother, one thoroughly drunk and the other tipsy, and demanded that because he won the darts competition (‘ _with my help.’ ‘Yeah, with- with ‘er help_ ’) that Dean had to go up to the karaoke machine and sing something for him, because he’s improved from dramatically singing REO speedwagon in the Impala. Dean held his hands up and refused, muttering something about not singing in a bar since the incident with Lee, but was shoved - lovingly - onto stage.

He blinked his confusion for a few seconds, before looking around the floor, thinking, and then moving to the machine to fill in his song, before taking place at the mic, nodding along, a smile slowly creeping onto his face as the guitar and drums began to thump through the speakers.

_ She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean _

_ She was the best damn woman that I ever seen _

_ She had the sightless eyes, telling me no lies _

_ Knocking me out with those American thighs _

Dean quickly sunk into the song, keeping on tune - despite having a deeper voice than Bon Scott - with the skill of someone who’d sung while drunk, with their inhibitions thrown to the wind, several times.

_ Taking more than her share, had me fighting for air _

_ She told me to come, but I was already there _

_ 'Cause the walls start shaking, the Earth was quaking _

_ My mind was aching and we were making it _

_ And you shook me all night long _

_ Yeah, you shook me all night long _

Dean pointed at Cas and winked, causing a few around him to groan, someone to ‘awww’, and Cas to blush furiously, despite his face barely moving beyond a faint smile.

_ Working double time on the seduction line _

_ She's one of a kind, she's just mine, all mine _

_ Wanted no applause, it's just another course _

_ Made a meal outta me, and come back for more _

Dean was clutching the mic, swinging it around for a little bit of flair he would deny wanting to add until the day he died.

_ Had to cool me down to take another round _

_ Now I'm back in the ring to take another swing _

_ That the walls were shaking, the Earth was quaking _

_ My mind was aching and we were making it _

_ And you shook me all night long _

_ Yeah, you shook me all night long _

_ And knocked me out, I said _

_ You shook me all night long _

_ You had me shaking and you shook me all night long _

_ Yeah, you shook me _

_ Well, you took me _

_ You really took me and you shook me all night long _

_ Ooh, you shook me all night long _

_ Yeah, yeah, you shook me all night long _

_ You really got me and you shook me all night long _

_ Yeah, you shook me _

_ Yeah, you shook me all night long _

Dean swayed side to side, forwards and backwards, encouraging the crowd to sing with him, feeling like a Rockstar, even if there were less than 100 people in the bar. When the song finished, he grinned widely and stepped off the stage, and going to give his brother a gentle hit over the head, and Cas a passionate kiss that earned a roar of approval through the bar for a second time.

More shots were handed out, and Sam, Kaia, and Eileen all tapped out, passing their drinks to either their significant other, or their brother and his boyfriend to enjoy, as the listened to other patrons take their turns on the machine, singing party classics like ‘tequila’, and ‘Chelsea Dagger’ by the Fratellis. After a few drinks and some snickering in the corner, a very drunk trio of Gabriel, Crowley, and Claire shuffle out of the circular booth and stumble up to the stage - only Crowley walking straight because he’s a king and despite being Pan as a frying pan he’s the straightest one out of the lot.

They giggle amongst themselves, setting themselves up around the mic, trying to stop each other laughing and failing miserably as a cheesy early ‘00s soundtrack begins to play, and Balthazar knows intrinsically something is wrong.

_ I can’t wait to fly _

_ Oh, oh, I'm alive _

It’s a _bloody_ Celine Dion song, **_of course_**! Balthazar groans, and laughter explodes from the trio, before they do their best to sing, Gabriel being the best despite still sounding like a pregnant llama. I daren’t even try to describe the other two, for it was that bad, but they persevere regardless.

_ When you call on me _

_ When I hear you breathe _

_ I get wings to fly _

_ I feel that I'm alive _

The trio exaggerate passionate faces, pretending to love the song with their very heart, singing to Balthazar and no one else in a way that makes the angel want to smite himself, or get Dean to do it himself.

_ When you look at me _

_ I can touch the sky _

_ I know that I'm alive _

_ When you bless the day _

_ I just drift away _

_ All my worries die _

_ I'm glad that I'm alive _

Gabriel and Claire dance horribly, uncoordinated dad-dance-moves and Crowley is just wiggling and tapping his toes between the two. It’s cursed and Balthazar wants his eyes torn from him. 

_ You've set my heart on fire _

_ Filled me with love _

_ Made me a woman on clouds above _

_ I couldn't get much higher _

_ My spirit takes flight _

_ 'Cause I am alive _

_ When you call on me _

_ When you call on me _

_ When I hear you breathe _

_ When I hear you breathe _

_ I get wings to fly _

_ I feel that I'm alive _

_ I am alive _

_ When you reach for me _

_ When you reach for me _

_ Raising spirits high _

_ God knows that _

_ That I'll be the one _

_ Standing by through good and through trying times _

_ And it's only begun _

_ I can't wait for the rest of my life _

They begin to sing in earnest, belting the lyrics and the crowd has joined in and, yes- is that a molecule of dust on the floor? Much more interesting and kind to him than the buggers on stage, and those around him. He should never have said anything about Celine Dion to the Winchesters.

_ When you call on me _

_ When you call on me _

_ When you reach for me _

_ When you reach for me _

_ I get wings to fly _

_ I feel that _

_ When you bless the day _

_ When you bless, you bless the day _

_ I just drift away _

_ I just drift away _

_ All my worries die _

_ I know that I'm alive _

_ I get wings to fly _

_ God knows that I'm alive _

They bow dramatically and stumble off stage, each taking a drink the moment they return, and giggling at Balthazar’s pouting face. He really did hate Dion.

More people began to sing, the atmosphere of the bar lively and electric, and the group sang along to several songs, though a few of the angels don’t know any of the songs, and Sam mutters the lyrics onto Eileen’s lips since she can't hear them, she may as well feel them instead. Meg mutters something about humans being cheesy, but everyone finds Sam and Eileen adorable, ‘ _ definitely why they won that darts competition earlier _ ’, _ ‘you dick, take that back!’ _

Gabriel, Kaia and Dean share a look after Cas sings part of ‘I want it that way’ by the backstreet boys - who even knew that he knew the song existed? Much less the lyrics - and unanimously agree that this must continue.

Dean slams down a $20 into the middle of the table and looks at Cas, then his lips, then back to him.

“For $20, you go up there and sing a song, it's gotta be country though.” Castiel sighs fondly, but also a little tired (though in the fond, married-for-12-years-sure-honey kind of way) of Dean’s kink with cowboys that he had yet to bring up during sex, but he had no doubt he would eventually.

Gabriel and Kaia slam down their own $20s and now its $60 from singing a simple song, but he doesn't know as many country songs as classic rock or pop because Sam listened to those sometimes.

Cas stands up, drains Dean’s shot and begins to walk to the stage, only to hear “You gotta sing Jolene!” behind him as he finally steps onto the stage. With a groan, and a quick check he knows the song (or that Metatron knew it), he picks the song and sighs once more, just as the intro begins its tangy country guitar.

_ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene _

_ I'm begging of you please don't take my man _

He hears cheers from their table, and all across the bar, urging him on. He doesn’t think his gravelly voice fits the music, but little does he know that Dean (less than 10m away from him) is sporting a small woody watching him sing such a song so beautifully he might cry manly tears because this was a chick flick moment, but fuck if it wasn’t perfect.

_ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene _

_ Please don't take him just because you can _

Cas imagines Benny, Crowley, Anna, every man and woman he had to watch Dean lay with and come back to the motel or bunker from a rough night with, and that ruffled and sated look on his sculpted face. He feels an odd attachment to this song now he thinks of them.

_ Your beauty is beyond compare _

_ With flaming locks of auburn hair _

_ With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green _

_ Your smile is like a breath of spring _

_ Your voice is soft like summer rain _

_ And I cannot compete with you _

_ Jolene _

_ He talks about you in his sleep _

_ And there's nothing I can do to keep _

_ From crying when he calls your name _

_ Jolene _

_ And I can easily understand _

_ How you could easily take my man _

_ But you don't know what he means to me _

_ Jolene _

Dean watches as Cas tilts his head to reach higher notes with his deeper voice and falls a little more in love each time because  _ that’s Cas alright _ . And It’s the cutest, most endearing thing he’s seen since a few minutes ago when Cas had taken his shot and downed it with a nervous but determined look on his face, though that was also really hot.

_ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene _

_ I'm begging of you please don't take my man _

_ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene _

_ Please don't take him just because you can _

_ You could have your choice of men _

_ But I could never love again _

_ He's the only one for me _

_ Jolene _

_ I had to have this talk with you _

_ My happiness depends on you _

_ And whatever you decide to do _

_ Jolene _

Cas steels himself, watching everyone in the bar, but mostly ignoring them as he sings, and urges everything he can to finish the song with some grace and skill…

_ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene _

_ I'm begging of you please don't take my man _

_ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene _

_ Please don't take him even though you can _

_ Jolene, Jolene _

Cas bowed, almost falling forward as he did, and sauntered back to the table who were vigorously clapping and applauding him joining with the praising clamour of the crowd,, but Cas simply took the $60 on the table and stashed it in one of the pockets in his trench coat, grinning smugly.

Most of the other customers of the bar left soon after because it was nearing closing time, and only their group and a few others remained, Uriel looked around, head feeling abnormally light and eyes sluggish and heavy for the first time. He muttered something to Balthazar about fresh air and strode to the door, rubbing his head, trying to rub away the grogginess of all the alcohol he had consumed. 

He’s just about to leave, opening the door, when he almost runs face first into someone. Blonde hair, blue eyes and-

Archangel grace.

“Lucifer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished the torture chapter, so I hope you all are ready for that in... a good few chapters. I didn't realize it was that far away, wow-


	17. Mud Monkeys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a very short chapter, I really didn't know how to make it longer if I'm honest.
> 
> Also, I think I implied that either Sam is very straight and doesn't like watching two guys get it on or that he was raped and I dont know which is more likely so I'm dropping it. it's just a little flinch, but still. Also, Lucifer is a power bottom but I made him top.
> 
> The next chapter is set at a different time from the previous two and the next two, but it's integral to the rest of the story, and will hopefully explain a few things I've mentioned but never explicitly. Hope you enjoy angsty archangels-

“Lucifer” Uriel breathed out, eyes flickering over his form, checking that this really was happening. He had expected this to happen at some point, but not so soon, and not with everyone watching him-

“Uriel, my...shining soldier. What are you doing with these dipshits?” He asked, pursing his lips, and forming his face into a clueless expression.

Several people had stood up by now, and more had their weapons drawn. The bar was unusually silent, because all the remaining people turned to thin, coloured smoke and disappeared. Yet all Uriel could concentrate on was Lucifer before him - actually before him - complimenting him. 

He stuttered, opening his mouth and trying to say something, anything, but he stayed silent.

He was pushed several steps back, stumbling as he did so before righting himself, feeling disorientated more than what the alcohol was doing to him.

“The Winchesters and their whores, wonderful, always knew you had it in you to fuck every being in all of creation.” Lucifer winked at them, and then turned to Meg.

“Meg, oh Meg, Meg, my little nut-meg” Lucifer teased, and Dean muttered something about being unoriginal.

“Heya Luci, long time no see, how did hate-fucking Michael treat you in the cage?” Meg smirked, and Sam tensed slightly, but no one but Eileen noticed, since they were all uncomfortable, and assumed Sam would be so especially.

“He was the bottom” Lucifer grins, looking through the group, glaring at a few and forcefully smiling at others.

Samandriel unsheathes his blade with a practiced flick of his wrist and darts toward the archangel, aiming for his eye to, hopefully, blind. Lucifer doesn’t even tense and Alfie goes flying over the bar counter and smashes into the wall of alcohol.

Crowley stands up, eyes trained on Lucifer dangerously, but is thrown into the wall behind him, head flung back, and he slips to the floor, dazed and view fuzzy.

Everyone else, having learnt their lesson, try their best to not attack Lucifer or say something offensive despite the alcohol.

“I’ve always been the villain, the one people detest and distrust, but you...most of you at some point have helped ruin the world - I only did it once!” And he was right, but it didn’t make what he was saying true, considering the truth in its entirety.

“Lucifer, you’re a dick, stop trying to act the victim.” Dean stated, arms crossed and slightly fed up, everyone tensed in the bar - those who could anyways - and waited with bated breath to see what would happen. Lucifer just laughed and glared, eyeing him up and down with cation and curiosity.

“Uriel. You were always so loyal, and I can sense your unrest as I speak. Come be by my side again, my right hand. Meg over there is a lost cause, and this vessel is now and truly mine, so no need for little Samantha over there.”

Uriel looked at all his friends who were either sporting worried frowns, or murderous frowns; there were no in between frowns. Something deep in his grace cried in joy at being recognised so highly by the angel he had dedicated his former existence to, but something had changed, and he wasn’t ready to admit it. But he wasn’t going to get time. 

Fine, if he was being forced: he enjoyed this new life and the acquaintances he has made. Humans didn’t...entirely repulse him. They weren’t mud monkeys per say, perhaps more like confused nuclear explosions that didn’t know what they were doing but were just going with whatever was normal to the other explosions. They were fascinating to watch in passing; they would bless people who sternutate and guide their elderly across roads. They could be casual or formal, or scared, or boisterous and they were all innately different, unlike angels were supposed to be.

They weren’t perfect, not in any sense of the word, but they had charm in the little pointless things they did and the stigmas around natural processes, and though he’d never voiced this opinion, and had hoped he would never be forced to beyond vaguely hinting at it, but perhaps...perhaps it was for the best since his unrest and inner turmoil helped him convince Lucifer he was still loyal.

Uriel tensed for a second, before nodding slowly and walking to Lucifer’s side, one step behind him as all right hands would be in heaven. He had a limited gap for this to work, and he looked to Gabriel, hoping to convey his ridiculous plan, but everyone was looking at him with betrayal or hurt on their expressive faces. Balthazar seemed more wrathful at the betrayal, but he could rectify this after they killed Lucifer. He met Gabriel’s eyes and mouthed the number ‘thirty’, before remaining silent, but stood intimidatingly behind Lucifer, like a guard dog.

“Aw, it’s so pleasant to see the looks on your faces at him betraying you. You all knew he was loyal to me, I don't even know why you let him stay by your side in the first place.”

Gabriel stood up and slid out of his spot in the group, and moved to the front, glaring at Lucifer.

“Let me paraphrase myself, brother: ‘You are a great big bag of dicks, and though you are my brother I hold no sympathy for what you have brought on yourself, for this twisted focus you’re trying to spin.”

Uriel mouthed ‘five’, and Gabriel smiled, tucking his hands into his pockets as Lucifer turned from teasing to homicidal. “This time, you’re staying in the void, Douche-nugget” And Uriel forcefully shoved Lucifer at Gabriel, and the smaller archangel whipped his blade out and stabbed the flailing and howling devil in his heart, through the ribcage, letting his grace burn bright before letting the now empty and limp vessel slump to the floor.

The two angels panted, looking at each other and grinning, though it looked less natural on Uriel’s ever-serious face. Everyone looked between them, in shock that Lucifer’s death was so quick. He overestimated his strength and influence so much he was deceived and killed. Balthazar flew to Uriel’s side, slapped his face and wrapped around him like a koala, refusing to let go as the conscious part of the group congratulated the angels and gave Uriel smiles he didn’t know what they meant, but assumed they were proud of him. Proud of him for denying such a man his loyalty, which felt warm in his abdomen, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

~~~~~~~

Jack watched the whole scene play through, watching joy and camaraderie twist into fear and hatred. He was proud how his family - much larger than normal - had grown and dealt with this situation so quickly.

He had initially been concerned with what happened with the empty and Dean’s transition from human to reaper, then reaper to Death, but he and everyone around him were proving capable of dealing with their messes.

He watched Castiel give Uriel a brief hug, and pat Gabriel on the shoulder - less touchy than most others but still genuine and proud of them both - and briefly yearned to be there with them, receiving hugs and praise and eating pie and burgers and fruit salads and the kale Dean cooked with bacon to appease both himself and Sam (only barely). But, he had responsibilities trying to rebuild heaven. He remembered it being nice to relieve memories, but he wanted to go see his mum without bothering angels with leaving his little room.

It had been coming along slowly, but nothing had gone drastically wrong...yet. Even Amara was impressed with him, though he had no idea if that was a good thing or not. 

He watched them celebrate a little more, taking booze off the shelves where it still remained and having one final round on the house to celebrate one more problem taken care of, feeling further from his family yet the most connected he had ever felt in his life.


	18. Blood-soaked Blast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a bit of a detour from our current four-part special to give you a glimpse into what our least favourite archangel and perhaps our second least favourite demon are up to.
> 
> I do mention racism (as well as almost a page of religious angst but we're not going to go there) just as a warning in case no one likes reading about it. I dont think its extreme, more a passing comment or two about the angelic race's view of the demons. Might not even be racism but it is using the physical traits of a being in a derogative way and (with monsters to account for as well) that's how I describe racism, so please correct me if I'm wrong so I dont make this mistake again!
> 
> Also, can we take a second to congratulate the Michael of the most-seen world for not deciding to fuck humanity over and even having a bromance with one like kudos ma dude

It was either entirely too fitting or entirely too ironic of Michael to be sat at the back of a church, arms crossed, and so were his legs as he glared at the idol of Jesus crying out from the agony of his punishment for being who he was. For being the son of God.

He vaguely remembered flashes of his death, and he knew he had died. Killed by the Nephilim child, of all the ways he could have gone. The form he had been inhabiting had seemed rejoiced in his pain and in his final moments he wished nothing more than to slaughter every single person in that damned bunker and watch the light fade from their determined eyes because they had gotten in his way, and the last time that truly happened, he snapped his fingers and the offender imploded in a burst of angelic grace that meant nothing more than a problem gone to him.

And God...Chuck, as he was calling himself apparently, chose this world. Why he chose this singular world to lavish with attention and praise and love because something had happened here. Why not his world, or any other bloody world. What made this lauded world special, worth the attention of his father which he had fought so righteously for against the maggots who he loved. How had that not earned his attention?

How had taking his world in his palms and crushing it slowly until all that remained were a sprinkling of hopeful humans who thought they could overpower the heavenly host and not caught his attention? How had taking one of his favourite toys and using him for his personal gain not gained his attention? How had all his desperate prayers begging him to face him, calling him a coward until his grace was…’blue in the face’ as humans said, how had that not caught his attention.

He had been a good, pious, devoted son. He had done everything his father had asked for to the letter and had never strayed from the foot of his throne, never lusted for more, never rejected any of his cosmic laws. He had obeyed everything demanded of him and did it to excellence. But then he disappeared, and something broke deep down inside of his grace.

It hadn’t been powerful at first, he had continued with his duties, and ruling heaven as was expected of him, until he felt an urge to do more than mourn the loss of his father and follow his orders. He felt the urge to rebel. He wanted to spread his six wings, soar across earth and kill every human he saw because his father preferred them more than him before he left. He wanted to watch the light fade from the eyes of prophets and the ancestors of prophets to come and know that those touched by God would never feel that connection with his father. He wanted for more than he had ever known.

But he couldn’t. And it was a few millennia before he finally succumbed to the persistent thoughts and decided to do it, decided to rally the host and descend to earth when the apocalypse started and raze the world until all he could see was water and barren land. He had neve gotten that far, and maybe he never would get back there to finish it, but it had felt good, exhilarating even, to watch what his father made to crumble and burn and die.

And amidst his spiralling thoughts, faint footsteps echoed through the empty church, devoid of the presence of his father.

He turned his head, looking to the source, and sneered at the sight of a demon daring to approach him with little care for the overwhelming fact he could smite the monstrosity from where he sat by simply relaxing his true form a miniscule amount.

“Mikey, how cheesy of you to be here. You do know God is powerless and absent here, right?”

Michael rolled his vessel’s brown eyes, and his eyes of pure fire did something similar in the ethereal plane, and Alistair simply laughed.

In his word, Alistair had been one of the last demons to die, and had laughed and taunted the angels executing him until the amber lightning under his skin dimmed and his body sagged. It had been a glorious day, where they had killed all the remaining demons, and had wiped the smirk from his dying body.

“What do you want, Demon?”

“Reducing me down to my species, hot wings? How racist of a perfect creature like you. I came with an offer I didn’t think you’d want to turn down, but fine with me-"

“Wait,” curiosity gnawed on his grace, and he was curious what a demon could offer him, regardless of it’s status.

Alistair grinned, and took a seat at the other end of the pew from him, feet kicked up on the back of the row in front, a smug grin on his twisted face as he turned to Michael.

“What is your offer?”

Alistair began to pick drying blood from under his chipped nails as he spoke, looking casual in a devil-may-care, forced way. “You get your sword with no struggle, I get my apprentice and personal canvas back, and we don't have to worry about the Winchesters getting in our way while we continue causing chaos, because I heard from a little birdie that you wanted to destroy this world, and every other world to spite daddy.”

Michael sneered at Alistair’s dig, but looking at the offer with an objective view, it seemed almost too good to be true. That he could have the one thing to allow him full strength and capability in his vessel without burning it out while cancelling out the struggle from the soul, and a prominent problem gone? Never to bother him again?

“Why do you want my assistance, why do you even want this in the first place?”

Alistair stopped picking his nails, and spread his arms across the back of the pew, another forced casual position, “In the empty - that’s what were we went is called -, I had some time to think, to see my some highlights of my life, and I just kept seeing that righteous man. I just kept seeing him and he never left and realising all my hard work to turn him has been undone, well,” Alistair turns to look at Michael, and something messy and raw glints in his eyes, keeps his nasally tone calm as he speaks, “I realised how much fun it would be to have him at my side, doing whatever I want. Something changed in him, he’s stronger now, and I could bring this world to its feet and have a blood-soaked blast with any human whenever I see fit if he’s there to keep them in line. Imagine all the bodies I could carve up, could send to hell and enjoy.

“That, and I have a demon on the side that wants some revenge on the younger for something that happened after I died apparently. Together...well, we’re just two demons, and the Winchesters have dealt with more before, but an Archangel too? That would add a nuclear bomb to an army of a few tanks.”

Michael looked up at the portraits of his father - hideously wrong in their depictions of a holy, wise man. He had wanted all of the worlds created so he could toy with them, so how would he feel getting his toys smashed? It’s an ideal that he had repeated to himself whenever he stopped to second guess what was happening and if it was too much. It took a bit of effort, his world, to crush in his fist, and even then resistance remained far longer than he preferred. With his sword, and the soul’s obedience to Alistair (perhaps, eventually him) this crusade would be made much easier. 

It was a long moment, deafening and not a sound pierced through the thin, but powerful silence, until,

“I’m in.”


	19. A Gil de Moooah - The Need to Repent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title actually says 'the want to repent' but need translated literally and I just threw a bunch of synonyms in tbh.  
> And yes, the chapters are getting shorter. I really am not concerned and I hope you enjoy Dean angsting.

After a final raid of the ruined bar, the group carried Samandriel and Crowley back to the cars and they were all getting ready to leave, ready to sleep or do the equivalent of shutting down to recharge, when,

“Castiel.” A masculine, vaguely familiar voice called out, sounding as if they were smiling. He turned around, trench coat billowing in the faint breeze, door to the Impala’s passenger seat open, a cautious, curious look on his face, only to find an angel he never thought he’d see again, despite the madness that was now their problem.

“Hannah. I did not expect to see you.” And he hadn’t, but the way Hannah was looking at him was completely contradictory to that idea. He looked excited, relieved, elated, all expressed through the aura of grace through the body.

“Well, it’s good to see you, though I have no idea how long it has been since I have.” The younger angel admitted, beginning to slowly walk towards Cas, cautious in case the fallen angel held any ill will towards him still.

“It has been almost five years since The Darkness was unleashed, Hannah.”, And he watches Hannah look at the floor and nod, as if expecting half a decade to have disappeared like a bad night’s rest. The newly-revived angel looks back to Castiel and smiles, holding his hand out,

“It may not have been long for me, but I truly have missed you, Castiel. How are your...Winchesters?” He’s trying to be amicable, trying to be friendly for one reason or another, and Castiel accepts it because it has been too long for him without some of his closest siblings and every one he gains back, another piece of him feels full. Castiel takes the hand, shaking it firmly - as Dean taught him when they were investigating a rogue rougarou,  _ A firm handshake is key; if you have a weak handshake, they’ll assume you’re a baby and walk all over you - you got that, Cas? -  _ his face is carefully blank because he does not know if it’s wise to let his guard drop around Hannah, regardless of how much he wants to.

“They are fine. We have gained...several new additions, as you can probably see…” Castiel gestures self-consciously to Claire, Gabriel and Sam all trying to push an Unconscious Crowley into the Car, Balthazar recording the whole thing, likely for blackmail. These were his family, he had to remind himself, he loved them even if they were all sharing half a brain cell between them, not physically otherwise most of them would be dead but Claire had said it once and explained its meaning and, yes, it was very fitting.

“You certainly have gathered lots of wayward strays, haven’t you? I’m mostly glad I haven’t encountered Metatron yet.” Hannah admitted, chuckling faintly while watching the group accidentally run Gabriel into Crowley’s ass, and the resultant chaos. 

“Claire killed him. She’s the blonde one laughing at Gabriel.” Castiel pointed out with pride blooming in him, because his adoptive daughter - in an incredibly convoluted way - had been able to kill an angel it took himself and the brothers almost 4 years to get rid of, and Amara had to do it for them. He was truly proud, indeed.

“I’m sure Jimmy would be proud too.” He nodded, watching Gabriel rub his face against Sam and now Sam was squawking because  _ Gabe I thought we were friends! You thought wrong Samsquach, This is what you get for laughing at my suffering! _

Hannah sighed, before turning to Castiel, a serious air now accompanying him,

“Castiel, I wanted to apologise for what I did, for what I let happen to you before I died.”

Castiel cut him off, “It is forgotten, and back during a time I would much rather forget, if I am completely honest.” He could barely handle the memory of Dean sitting atop him, Cas’ own blade raised, covered in his own blood, ready to kill him, much less the feeling of being possessed by an Archangel soon after.

“Surely there is something I could do, some way to express my regret and guilt?” Hannah asked, sounding strangely quiet and small, and that shook Castiel because Hannah was always so sure and big, and confident, and an even better leader than Michael.

Castiel thought about it for a second, before finally settling on, 

“In three days time, meet me here,” He spouted out an address, and co-ordinates, “And I’m sure by then I will have thought of something, if you truly feel the need to repent, Hannah.”

“Thank you, Castiel.”

“It is no trouble.” Crowley, Sam, Claire, and Balthazar were finally seated in cars, so they could finally return to the Bunker, and Castiel smiled at that, just as Hannah raised his wings ( because apparently the empty liked to return wings to angels now-) and disappeared into the night with a blink

~~~~

Dean watched Hannah and Castiel laugh and smile, and he felt something sick and vile bubble in his stomach because they were stood just a bit too close, smiled just a bit too much to be tortured-rebellious-angel-who-just-so-happened-to-lead-heaven-and-command-every-single-angel-but-that-is-beside-the-point-this-dick-next-to-Cas-tortured-him and Dick-angel-who-is-attracted-to-Cas-and-has-left-him-several-times-for-chosing-the-only-slightly-more-trustorthy-family-and-that-is-entirely-on-this-angelic-fucker-did-I-mention-they-totured-Cas?-what-a-dick, and yes, maybe Dean was being paranoid, maybe he was imagining the worst possible scenario, but they looked comfortable with each other and why was Cas comfortable with the angel that tortured him? Dean would never be comfortable with Alistair, Sam would never be comfortable with Lucifer, or that British lady who torched his feet. Why did he look like he was at peace from the driver’s seat in the Impala?

Maybe, it was because he thought that kind of behaviour was love, was acceptable because Dean and Sam did it all the time with each other; rough, seldom-voiced love that only required a hug when one almost died, that insult each other as a term of endearment that started when they were scrawny kids with no food and emotions they couldn’t let out any other way, but in between tv and bedtime when they’d wish each other goodnight that evolved into a reflex built from codependent, overwhelming fraternal love.

What if it was just a burning desire to get away from Dean? Because despite the time and closeness they had shared recently, Cas could be feeling trapped and want any escape route possible because who bloody wouldn’t if they were sharing a bed with Dean Winchester? He might not be a killer, but he did ruin lives, he was ridiculously weak and he didn’t deserve anything so great as the only tolerable angel that he loved so violently it felt like a bullet wound loving him back to the point he would face Hell-but-worse to save him. 

Maybe he just decided Dean and his family wasn’t enough. That the pain in his chest was too much because Dean had been the reason everything he was had been stripped bare until he was a shell of his former glory and decided that anything was better than looking into the face, into the haunted green eyes that dragged an angel by their stupid, absolutely fitting blue tie the same colour as their eyes from Heaven and down into the mud and tears and sweat and blood of humanity, of the ‘hairless apes’ that they were ordered to love, and never did.

But, regardless of whatever reasons he could think of for Cas looking so happy talking to his torturer- why was he talking so civil-like with his bloody torturer? The previous ideas could happen with anyone, why Hannah specifically. Maybe it was because Hannah once liked him (Cas had explained one night while sharing stories that Hannah had dropped more than just her shirt and her shoes in the hotel they were staying at. She had dropped everything, and had (according to Cas’ alcohol-fuelled explanation and recreation of events) attempted to flirt and gain the interest of Cas. Maybe it was just a desire for someone who loved him without all the mental health issues-

Regardless of what he thought, or what he thought Cas thought, he needed to clear this up in case he was just overreacting and was about to lose the best thing in his old age (because, as a hunter (and Death) this is as old he was ever going to get.). So, he steeled his nerves that felt like they needed a few bottles of Jack to calm because they were humming through his body and his heart was beating almost as fast as he usually drives Baby, and gripped the worn but shining handle of his car, and pushed it open, inhaling a fortifying breath as he did.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is where we descend into the shallow end of the angst to come so put on your best swimsuit and hold your breath-
> 
> Okay, maybe not. I'm not getting these out as fast as I was, but you get my point.

Dean pulls himself from his seat in Baby, and walks towards Cas, who was making his way towards the Impala but was stopped by Dean approaching him. 

“Where’d Hannah go?” Dean asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, hands rubbing awkwardly around his phone and keys.

“Away, somewhere. I told him to meet me outside of the bunker in a few days-”

“The bunker?” Dean’s face hardens into something incredulous, tone mimicking it. “The one place on earth, Heaven, and Hell where our family is safe?” Cas’ face softens momentarily at ‘our family’ but it returns to its controlled, usual form quickly enough, as if nothing had happened.

“Hannah is trustworthy and will not sell out the position of the bunker.” And Castiel said it with such certainty that Dean felt something small and innocent in his chest creep and curl around his heart and firmly affix itself there. Doubt, it was doubt. 

“The last thing Hannah did before he died was torture you, Cas. I wouldn’t call that ‘trustworthy’.” Dean snarked, bringing his fidgety arms up to cross over his chest, tapping onto his arm like a piano the only song he had ever learnt, and only because one of the motel owners had taught him in the middle of bumfuck, nowhere when he was 7, ‘ _ hey Jude, don't make it bad…’ _

“The last thing Hannah did for me was die for me. I consider that a trustworthy trait, Dean.”

And Castiel used his name, as if he didn’t know it turned Dean to mush on the inside because it sounded so right on his lips, but he wasn’t going to let this slide, because that tiny band of doubt around his heart was expanding every time Castiel defended Hannah so confidently and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

“He put himself into that situation, Cas. You wouldn’t have needed protecting if Hannah hadn’t given torturing you the thumbs up in the first place! How can we trust someone like that to come into our home and walk around freely around the most dangerous texts and items in America?” Dean felt like that argument was sure to convince Cas, but he was proven wrong, instead.

“You let Uriel do it without a problem, why are you so against Hannah wanting to repent for his sins?”

“We had Crowley in our lap, of course I wasn’t focused on Uriel, especially after you walked off with him and Balthazar and knocked some sense into him.”

“So you trust my judgement only some of the time?” Cas asked, eyebrows raised, a frown on his chapped lips. He looked slighted, and Dean wanted to wipe that look off his face because it didn’t belong there at all, ever, even a little bit.  _ ‘Take a sad song and make it better…’ _

“I trust your judgement when the person you're judging hasn't been rubbing up against you like a dog in heat; that’s when I trust your judgement of angels, Cas.”

Cas tilted his head, and- Fuck, Dean just wanted to push him into a wall and kiss him until he was panting, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed with want and love because Cas was always hot, but it was those little quirks that really made him Cas, and made Dean want to show Cas the enormity of his love.

Finally, something seemed to click in Cas’ head,

“You don’t like Hannah because he’s expressed romantic and sexual attraction to me, like you. You’re jealous.” And Dean kissed his teeth because Cas was right, but his pride was at stake, and he really did not trust Hannah after everything he’d pulled with the Angel’s rebellion against Metatron, and then Torturing Cas when he was already vulnerable and hurt. _ ‘Remember to let her into your heart...’ _

“I’m not jealous, Cas. Why would I be jealous?” He scoffed, inadvertently glaring at Cas, eyes narrowed and his face deathly serious - pun not intended, this was actually serious for once.

Cas looked like a kicked puppy for a second - lips parted in an ‘oh’ and brows curled upward that just made him look like someone had torn his heart from his chest and spat on it, before throwing it in the garbage, then snapping his puppy’s throat with a grin - before properly glaring at Dean, and Dean knew Cas had taken it the wrong way; thought that Dean didn’t like Cas enough to be jealous, not that Dean thought Hannah was such a bitch that Cas would never want her, though that cage around his heart, steadily growing, said otherwise.  _ ‘then you can start to make things better.’ _

“I don’t know, Dean. Maybe because your committed romantic partner is with someone who has at some point expressed interest in them, and you are so wrapped up in your excessive masculinity and repressed emotions that while trying to support your fragile ego you hurt said romantic partner.”

And something in Dean exploded, because Cas was… fuck it, he was right but fuck if it didn’t feel like a blade through the chest because Cas thought that Dean was more concerned about himself than Cas, and that was almost laughable. Dean had always been a giver, was forced into that shape and just adapted to the life he was given, and Cas was suggesting that even unconsciously he would put himself before his Mr Right and that was Cas ripping away at the very essence of Dean saying that. He might be jealous, but he was also heavily concerned that Hannah wouldn’t let Cas get away with everything he’s done to Heaven scot-free and he knew something was waiting for them with Hannah now about to be hanging around for penance or just to join the Scooby-Gang 2.0.  _ ‘Any time you feel the pain…’ _

And all that anger and hurt at Cas exposing him so raw for something misinterpreted wanted to erupt through his chest and out through his mouth, cut Cas as deep, even deeper than he had been because Cas was unlikely to stop at just that and he needed to strike pre-emptively, protect himself-

But he couldn’t, because he had fought with himself for 12 bloody years about his lust, then love for Castiel, fallen Angel of God, against everything he had been raised and then trained to hate and feel repulsed by, and he didn’t want to lose it because he had said something vaguely and Cas had taken it the wrong way. He just- he needed some alone time, some time to blow off some steam, then he could come back and explain everything, and maybe, just maybe Cas would apologise, though he was right so what did he really have to apologise for?  _ ‘ Hey Jude, refrain…’ _

Dean sighed, hands shaking with all the emotions fighting to be allowed free reign of his lips, poised to guide the soldiers to their target, and vacantly tugged the keys from his jeans, tossing them to Sam, who had been hovering between standing outside Baby and getting into the back seat, and it seemed everyone else was watching. Fucking great. Peachy. Sam caught them with ease, and furrowed his brows, confused. 

“Scratch her and you’re dead.” He half-heartedly threatened, barely focusing because he could feel all his worst emotions that Cas had been fighting back surge forward with his rage, his unrelenting anger and he just felt sick. Hatred, aimed at himself, pride, anger, every little thing he’s criticized himself for at one point in his life or another curling around his throat and squeezing, cutting off his air, his blood, making him feel off balance and dizzy…

_ ‘Don't carry the world upon your shoulders…’ _

“I need a minute…” He muttered, barely seeing the concerned look on Cas’ face, or Sam striding over to him, or Claire climbing out of her car to move to his side, or Gabriel glaring at him, as he walked away from the bar, from the cars, from Cas, raised his wings - which were puffed up and tense, the green at the tips of the jet black feathers looking pale, and almost sickly grey instead - and flew somewhere, anywhere, mainly just trying to get away from Lebanon, Kansas and all the dark feelings clawing at him, just like how it felt to be trapped in Michael, being tugged under a black lake and not letting him reach for the air only inches away, hands scraping away at the air he couldn’t drag down, couldn’t do anything with but caress frantically.

He decided - vaguely remembering a conversation he had had while trying to forget his most recent conversation - that he needed to learn how to control these...abilities he had now. His wings were fine, he had enough practice when fighting Lucifer with Michael to know how easy they were to control, even if he was a fledgling compared to the angels he was around daily. He just needed to focus on everything else, because being Death wasn’t complete without killing people, or rearranging the solar system for fun, was it?

Chicago, yes. The Pizza. Death - who was hopefully now alive and not still in the empty - liked Chicago pizza. He liked all food, but he particularly seemed to enjoy the pizza he’d been eating when they’d first met, so it seemed as logical a starting point as any.

It took a few minutes to figure out how to get to Chicago, and to tumble into a back alley unseen, but he got it done in the end, and standing up, he realised he was in the middle of a bunch of back alleys only minimum wage workers could afford, and sighed, because he had no bloody clue where to go from here.

He took a left turn, then a right, another right, left, right, left. And although he knew he wasn’t going in circles, it still felt that way, and he seemed to have made no progress. It was like some inescapable maze, like the Cretan Labyrinth, which was probably a real thing he could be trapped in with his luck, and this stupid, supernatural world.

He noticed cars speeding by at the end of one of the paths, and nodded to himself, beginning to walk down the alley, only to feel a heavy boot slam into his side, and he fell, desperately trying to gather his thoughts and his messy brain and reactions to fight back against whoever was mugging him, because he didn’t particularly feel like losing his phone today and refused to be beaten down by some pathetic human who wanted wallets and expensive items they could pawn off for money when he has killed beings far stronger and far scarier-

“I told you this was going to be fun, Deanie. Maybe not for you, but definitely for me.” He recognised that voice, that nasally, grating, demonic voice-

“Alistair.” He growled, sounding pathetic, probably looking pathetic amongst the garbage bags and bins too.

“The one and only.” He held his hands out like he was something worth revealing, dressed in the same clothes he had been tortured, and then had tortured Dean in when the Angels had wanted info about the angel killings. It sent shivers down his spine because he remembered the touches, the punches, the cuts the demon had inflicted, before Cas interrupted and almost got killed, and then Sam coming to the rescue. If only he could do that now…

“Get the fuck away from me before you become the next unsolved homicide investigation for the CPD.” Dean hissed, trying to push himself up, to get on equal fighting ground with the demon, because even if he was uneasy and dazed, he could still kill the demon with a focused touch - maybe - so it was even, or even a tilted playing field in his favour.

Alistair chuckled amusedly, slamming his shoe into Dean’s back, and then into his neck, twisting his foot in deeper so it’s cutting off his wind pipe, and fuck, he’s trapped under Alistair and who knows what the fuck he’s going to do and Cas still thinks Dean doesn’t love him enough to admit he’s jealous. He should have gotten down on his knees and begged Cas to forgive him, pride be damned. He should have apologised and kissed Cas and admitted his feelings then and there despite the audience. He should have- should...have…

Alistair smiled at the look on Dean’s face as he passed out, remembering it well from Hell. He had seen it so much when dead, and all he wanted now was to see it again, and again. See the little face Dean makes when he realises he’s still in Hell - though he can't get back there sadly. The sounds he makes when his bones are broken, or shattered as he can see it, the sound he makes when choking on Alistair, the sobs when he dresses up like Sammy, or Bobby, or even John and says the things Dean was most scared they’d say to him one day. He left most of his tools back in Hell, like his eye-scoop and the needle-that-just-keeps-going; recent addition to his wall of all of humanity’s worst torture devices and a few he came up with a few decades into the job, but the little he left on earth will do for breaking Dean. 

This is going to be fun, indeed.


	21. Dean says hi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was a hoot to write, and I honestly have no clue when the next chapter is coming out because the next antagonist I'm bringing in is the second worst in my opinion, even Naomi is better than this dude.
> 
> But I hope you all enjoy and stick around, because we're getting there VERY slowly, but only like a few chapters to go to the final showdown. And it will be a proper showdown.

It had been about 2 days since Dean had disappeared, and there had been radio silence from his end the whole time. Everyone who had a phone (because some of the angels were useless with the little glass rectangles that they kept breaking or just were incompetent using) had called and texted Mr Reaper constantly, begging for just a sign that he was okay and hadn’t accidentally managed to summon his scythe and trip on it while he was gone. Even Claire - who he only avoided when hunting, and even then only the killing or stalking of the monsters - had been greeted with silence when she called and texted. 

So, Sam had organised search parties, because only God knew where on earth (or off earth) Dean was, and Jack was ‘hands-off’. He sent angels and demons off to South Dakota, the towns surrounding where the roadhouse once stood, Lawrence, and a few other towns and cities Dean might visit to calm down, and at each destination, they found nothing. If Dean - or some Big Bad they had killed and brought back, a few sprung to mind who may want vengeance (Cain, Abbadon, Zachariah, Asmodeus, Lilith, The Michaels); Okay, maybe it wasn’t a few, more like a shit ton, but the idea of any of them with their hands on Dean - Michael who had been bunking with Adam was on thin ice, not preferable but possibly okay? - made his stomach turn.

It had been a whole day he’d been staring at traffic cams and facial recognition scan results, looking for Dean or one of the bastards they’d ganked at some point in the past 15 years or so, and thinking, wondering where Dean might have gone and what may have happened to him. The possibilities and lack of results and answers were driving him up the art deco walls of the bunker and he just knew that he had to get out and do something, anything, even if it was continue to do the exact same thing, just with greasy diner food or one of their wilted salads by his side and the sunlight glaring down at him, disappointed with his lack of progress. At least he wouldn’t be vitamin D deficient if he did that.

Eileen had been trying to cheer him up, to keep him hopeful about Dean and to pull him away from the screen so he wouldn’t need glasses by 45 - if he reached it amongst all this madness - but she wasn’t succeeding, and even Miracle couldn't pull him away for longer than it took to feed him and open the door for a minute or so. She’d decided she needed a lie down, and Sam couldn’t blame her. They’d finally gotten around to cementing their relationship then God had to step in, and then Dean opened the empty-

Alright. Let's clear this up: The brothers had gone through situations like this before - Purgatory and Cas becoming God the closest example of a heartfelt decision turning sour quickly even if the goal was achieved and was for general betterment - and they had blamed each other and themselves until they died - quite literally. And, yeah, he loved his brother with a burning passion and would do anything for him, but that didn’t stop him when he occasionally felt the need to throttle him until he sounded like a dollar store maraca. It was something Dean needed to do, get Cas back, and it's unfortunate that the cosmic consequences were so big and...final-series-y, but he understood why Dean did it and could see how happy Cas made him. 

It was a stupid decision, one he pondered over when he found himself unable to concentrate: Why did Dean not clue him in, how did he do it, did he know what he was getting himself into even a little bit, were there any angels and demons that couldn't get out because of how they died, like Azazel who they had killed with The Colt? Why did Dean leave him out?

Yeah, he needed some fresh air.

~~~~~~~

Claire and Kaia seemed to know that he needed some form of company, or maybe they just wanted to get out of the bunker too. They pulled up to the diner in Baby, and slid into a booth in the far corner, Sam setting up his laptop as the girls opposite him chatted animatedly about some racy period drama about a family that had been turned into a TV show recently that they had begun binging together. Sam ordered a vegan burger - because it was 2020 and of course they had vegan burgers in diners now - and the girls ordered waffles and shakes, but he could barely pull himself from the laptop, only catching passing flickers of sentences, enough to piece together happenings around him, but not enough to be engaged-

The laptop slammed shut and Claire was grinning where the screen used to be. She picked the laptop up and set it between herself and Kaia, as if daring Sam to try and take it. He sighed, and held his hands up in surrender. He  _ did _ need to take a moment to relax, regroup mentally so he didn’t run himself into the ground.

“So glad you decided to interact like a normal human being, Sam!” Her grin was irritating and reminded him of Dean when he was being a little shit. “So, spill the tea, you and Eileen? How’s that going?” Her eyebrows wiggled and Kaia snorted, and nodded her agreement with Claire’s question, and Sam just chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“We’re great. It’s nice being with her. How’s Jody?”

“She wants to be here but all her officers are incompetent.”

“Claire!” Kaia scolded, smacking her hand lightly away from Kaia’s milkshake.

“What?! It’s true.” She argued, smiling as she picked up her own shake and began slurping at it through the straw.

Sam snorted, taking a bite from his food, and chewing before smiling, listening to Kaia and Claire debate who was the most competent officer at Jody’s station, besides the woman herself. It was nice, peaceful, and exactly what he needed to relax-

“Sammy, bitch numero uno, and bitch numero dos.” Ruby slid into the seat beside him, filling up their booth, with a great big grin on her face. Kaia’s eyebrows raised and her mouth sat agape, and Claire beside her looked pissed more than anything. Sam beside her was frozen, eyes wide and hands twitchy atop the table, and Ruby, proud of the reactions she had earned from them no doubt, laid her head on Sam’s shoulder like they used to do when basking in the post-coital afterglow.

“Ruby?” Kaia exhaled, wrapping an arm around Claire, because she might not be the more proficient hunter but she sure as hell was going to protect Claire as much as she could.

“The one and only.”

“I’ve heard of her before, why have I heard of her before, Nieves?” Claire muttered, almost glaring at the brunette sitting beside Sam, acting like how Eileen got when she was full and a little drunk - overly sappy and touchy.

“What are you doing here, Ruby?” Sam finally demanded, rolling his shoulders back and sitting up straight, actually glaring at the demon beside him.

Ruby sighed, “You Winchesters are no fun.” her brown eyes rolled as she spoke, and then she righted herself, looked Sam dead in the eyes, tone soft as she spoke, “If you give me a chance, I'm here to win you back. You and me, we could-”

Sam scoffed, “ ‘If I’d give you the chance’, that's never going to happen. You let my brother get killed, you lied to me, led me on, made me start the bloody biblical apocalypse. The main thing I regret about being with you is that I wasn’t the one that plunged the demon blade into your stomach.” His tone was cold, and harsh, and completely honest. It was almost cathartic, in his veins he felt hot and cold finally confronting her properly, and not in a graveyard while finishing up a salt and burn.

“How cruel of the kind Winchester, I thought you thought you were better than being a bitch.” Ruby shrugged, and stole the milkshake from Claire opposite her, slurping it obnoxiously loud. Claire pulled an angel blade from her jacket, and Kaia placed a placating hand atop her own, looking into her eyes, and conveying the silent message of  _ ‘not in public’ _ . 

“Ruby, I’m not playing your games. Why are you here?” 

She giggled - fucking  _ giggled -  _ and finished the milkshake, dumping it, open lidded, upside down on Sam’s burger with an easy movement. “I heard the elder Winchester was kidnapped like a wuss, its spread around the demonic gossip circles like wildfire, and-”

“Kidnapped? Fuck-” Sam groaned, head falling into his hands.

“I did come along to tease that Alistair got him, but seeing as you’re being a bitch-”

“Who’s Alistair?”,  _ “Alistair?!”  _ The different reactions made the demon snort in amusement.

“Alistair is the chief inquisitor of Hell, or, was. Picasso with a knife, more like; He could take a fresh soul and they’d happily take up the knife within a week, Hell time. Time moves quicker there, so it would barely be a day up here.” Her smile grew wider when talking about him, as if talking about a personal hero, or a crush, “Dean was his right hand man over a decade ago, probably second best torturer in Hell, and was taught everything he knew by Alistair, first hand.”

Sam frowned as he processed this information, things he already knew, but phrased like this made it feel different, especially knowing Dean was back under this demon’s hand, probably with a razor in said hand.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, Sammy, I quite enjoy watching you squirm and get stressed and desperate, perhaps even desperate enough to drop that deaf slag and let me claim you before Dean-” She stopped herself, as if she were about to reveal something big, something she shouldn’t have even thought about saying. And regardless of his burning curiosity, he was done with her, and her dickish comments

“Leave, Ruby, or we’ll let Claire at you.” And while it was a joke, he was completely serious.

Ruby sighed, but agreed, putting up only a little bit of a fuss, before offhandedly mentioning, “Before I leave, you know, I was reminiscing recently about our time together, and I realised that you and Dean both have gorgeous screams. Both in pain and sexually.” Ruby winked at Sam, who growled, “Stop flirting, Ruby. It’s pathetic-”

“What did you mean by that?” It was the first thing Claire had said since the beginning, and it only seemed to make Ruby grin wider. The demon patronizingly patted her cheek, before standing up, leaning over to the blonde hunter, whispering, “Dean says hi.”, then she practically skipped out of the diner, disappearing the moment she left the door.

  
Sam’s brows furrowed, before looking at Claire, processing both hers and Ruby’s words, before his eyes widened, and he shot up, calling after Ruby, absently knocking his hip on the side of the table, following after her, pleading for more information, for her to come back and explain what she meant, as he had 13 years ago when she told him he’d have to kill Lilith with his demonic powers.


End file.
